


The End Has Come

by cagedchaos (leen_go), leen_go



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Character Death, Demons, Dystopian, Fantasy, Human Trafficking, Incomplete, M/M, MAMAverse, Mafia AU, Rise of the Guardians AU, Science Fiction, Sex Slave AU, Time Travel, Twins Kris and yifan, Vampires, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 95,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12780723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leen_go/pseuds/cagedchaos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/leen_go/pseuds/leen_go
Summary: A collection of WIPs that I've had since the beginning of time.





	1. [Fanxing] 'Ghost'

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a folder of WIPs for way too long and I'm finally acknowledging now that I'll never get through them. I'm a big weirdo in that I will still think I will get to them /eventually/ if I continue to call them WIPs so I'm just going to post and retire them so I can finally move on. Fair warning, these are 100% going to be in draft mode. It's unlikely but if anyone wants to adopt one of these, PLEASE DO SO.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yifan helps Yixing deal with the reality of having died in a car crash. Yifan has unfinished business with his family and Yixing doesn't even know what unfinished business he has that's keeping him from moving on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure this was inspired by the 'His Dark Materials' trilogy, where there's a world of dead people. The whole fic is about a dead couple so yeah. Death.

_The smell of tires burning on asphalt followed by the sound of shattering glass._

Zhang Yixing opened his eyes with a start to stare at the blank ceiling. The clock on the opposite wall read 6:37, but Yixing had no idea if it was morning or evening. A glance outside the window was less helpful because it was winter, meaning it was almost _always_ dark outside. With a groan, Yixing moved into an upright position and looked around him. His eyes fell on the small dining table on his left where the dinner that he had prepared sat uneaten, glasses of red wine untouched.

Yixing ran a hand along his forehead and let out a long sigh. Where the hell was Lu Han? The two were supposed to celebrate having officially moved into their new apartment, and Yixing had even cooked for the occasion.

A click sounded from the direction of the front door; Lu Han had come home.

“I’m fine, Minseok.” Yixing’s forehead crinkled; Lu Han’s voice was soft, and even with just three words, it sounded to him that his best friend was anything but fine. Yixing wanted to see the expression on Lu Han’s face, so he could give a proper assessment, but the door was open just a crack as Lu Han and his boyfriend chatted in the hallway.

“Are you sure? I mean, I can stick around for the night if you need. We could pop in a movie or something.” Kim Minseok’s voice was soothing, obviously trying to comfort Lu Han.

“You’re sweet, but I really just want to be by myself right now.”

“Alright, well, call me if you need anything, okay?”

Yixing waited for Lu Han to say goodbye and open the door fully before he got to his feet. Lu Han closed the door behind him, tossed his keys on the breakfast bar counter, and took in a long breath. He flicked the light on and Yixing only then remembered that he’d been sitting in the dark.

“Hey, where’ve you been? I made dinner…” Yixing started, but Lu Han had already spotted the table and was making his way over.

“Xing-ah…” Lu Han picked up a fork carefully and sat down in the chair opposite to where Yixing was standing. “You made this for me?” He stabbed at a piece of asparagus and bit down on it with a small smile.

“Of course, who else? You? You can’t cook for shit,” Yixing smirked as he crossed his arms, still standing in the living room in front of the couch.

“You shouldn’t have,” Lu Han said, continuing to eat the food cold.

Yixing shrugged, “Yeah, well, we’ve finally unpacked all the boxes, so we’re celebrating. Or were supposed to be celebrating yesterday. Which brings me back to my original question, where were you?”

Yixing and Lu Han had found this place over a month ago and had immediately put down two month’s rent with the landlord.  The only reason why it had taken the two so long to completely move in was because, according to Lu Han, Yixing was a complete slob, so it took forever to get his things together from their old place, even after settling things with their previous landlord.

Lu Han sighed heavily, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin. Yixing noticed that Lu Han’s eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. “Lu Han?” Yixing asked in a concerned tone. “What happened?”

Lu Han looked up, but not at Yixing before getting up quickly and heading to the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind him.

“What the hell, Lu Han?” It didn’t take a genius to notice that something was wrong with his roommate. “Lu Han?” Yixing ventured carefully when Lu Han had finally had come out of the bathroom to raid the refrigerator, pulling out all of Yixing’s favourite drinks and gathering them next to the fridge in the rosy light of the sunrise.

No response. Lu Han pulled out a can and added it to the growing pile on the counter next to the fridge without looking.

“Lu Han!”

Lu Han paused and the hold he had around the refrigerator handle slipped, his hand falling to his side as the door slowly closed. His focus was on the can he’d just pulled out, having only then realized that it was Yixing’s favourite out of all the sweet drinks he loved: coconut water.

“What’s wrong, Lu Han?”

Lu Han picked up the can and stared at it a moment before his shoulder’s fell and a whisper slipped between his lips, “Xing-ah.”

“Yeah?” Yixing answered, “The hell’s the matter with you tonight?”

Lu Han threw the can into the sink, picked up the next closest item and threw that too, this time across the room at the wall where the clock hung. He picked up an empty glass that had been draining on a towel and hurled that at the kitchen table, the shattered pieces scattering across the surface and onto the tiled floor.

Yixing didn’t have time to express his surprise at the sudden outburst before Lu Han grabbed his jacket, stepped over the broken shards and ran out the front door again.

When Lu Han returned that night, Yixing knew that he’d gone down to the bar before coming home after work and knocked back more than he could handle. Lu Han stumbled a couple of times before he fell into the couch. Not sure how to approach, Yixing stood wearily at the start of the hallway that lead to the bedrooms.

“How dare you, Zhang Yixing?” Lu Han muttered, grabbing a cushion to hug.

“What?” Yixing replied, confused, “How dare I what?” Yixing never got a response because Lu Han’s eyes had closed and he was fast asleep already. The tear that had rolled down his face didn’t go unnoticed.

…

Frustrated, Yixing wandered the streets with his hands stuffed in his pockets.  The setting sun painted the sky pink and orange, and Yixing had to weave carefully between commuters coming home from work.

“Oh, uh, sorry about that,” Yixing apologized, having bumped his shoulder into someone inevitably. He didn’t bother looking up at who it’d been, because if he did that every time he ran into someone, he’d be quickly dehydrated.

“It’s okay,” came the reply, which was quickly followed by, “Wait, what did you say?”

Yixing rolled his eyes and continued walking; he hardly needed trouble at seven in the morning.

“Wait!” A firm hand wrapped around Yixing’s elbow and spun him around. “What did you say?”

“Hey!” Yixing exclaimed, shaking himself free from the tight grasp. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He massaged the area on his arm, sure that a bruise would form.

“I’m, uh, I didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s just that, I, uh, I mean, I’ve never, uh…”

Yixing looked at the tall man with a bemused expression, “Sir, are you alright?” It wasn’t often that Yixing encountered drunks before dinner time was officially over; actually, this would be the first. “Do you, uhm, need me to call anyone?” Yixing was already reaching for his pocket.

The tall man made a frenzied gesture, “No, no. I’m fine, really.”

Yixing’s hand hovered over his pocket as he gave the stranger a skeptical look. The man he’d bumped into was taller than Yixing, and he had facial features that reminded him of main characters in the volumes of manga he had on his bookshelf. If he hadn’t been grinning a bit maniacally like the Cheshire Cat in wonderland, Yixing might’ve thought the stranger was the serious and passive type.

“Are you sure?” Yixing asked again, eyebrows still raised and resisting the urge to step backwards into a defensive stance.

“Yes. And I’m sorry for startling you. It’s just surprising is all, bumping into you.” He held out his hand for Yixing, “Name’s Wu Fan.”

Yixing eyed the hand suspiciously, “Okay… Uhm, hi… Wu Fan.” He didn’t bother offering an introduction himself, because the man, who called himself Wu Fan, was weird, and Yixing didn’t give out his name to weird people. He turned to continue his wandering alone, but Wu Fan had fallen into step beside him.

“So what’s your name?”

Yixing stopped in his tracks and turned to face Wu Fan, “Look, I’m sure you’re a great guy, but I’m not going to just start talking to you about, I dunno, the weather or whatever. No offense, but I don’t talk to strangers.” Yixing stared up at Wu Fan, hoping to emphasize his point even if he was a lot smaller. Wu Fan didn’t seem put off at all. In fact, a hint of a smile still graced his features. Yixing tried not to scowl rudely and only half succeeded, deciding to head back home instead. He ignored the fact that Wu Fan was now following him; Yixing could let the security guard at the entrance of his building deal with the creepy man.

When Yixing arrived at the foot of his building, he hesitated, staring up towards the fifth floor where the lights were lit in his living room. He heaved a sigh and continued to stare upwards, not moving. Lu Han wasn’t exactly making for good company at the moment and even if he wasn’t currently passed out on the couch, Yixing was still upset at the sudden and uncalled for outburst Lu Han had against Yixing.

“Something the matter?” Wu Fan chirped up, his voice coming from behind Yixing.

 


	2. [Fanxing] Time travel AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A team of scientists finally have a working time machine and take it for a test drive. When the team starts to get picked off one by one, Jongdae has to wonder if they are all accidents or if there is a much more sinister plan at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably one of the very first fics I thought up, alllll the way back in 2012 before '48hrs' came out. But after that came out, I lost motivation to write this because of the similarity to it (mostly all the dying) and worrying about ppl thinking I was stealing ideas.
> 
> (In case ppl haven't picked up on this, but I f**king love sci fi but lack the ability to write it the way I want >.<)

_2112 – August 16_

“It seems to be in perfect shape,” the technologist reported as she handed me the lens carefully. As far as I knew, there were only a handful of people in the world who owned one of these lenses, and until a week ago, I was not on that list. In fact, the one in my possession now had a previous owner, someone that I missed terribly. “I found absolutely nothing wrong with the device and it appears to be doing exactly what it was designed to do. There is, however, a file archived that is addressed to a Kim Jongdae, which I’m guessing is you. Please let me know if you have any more trouble with it in the future.”

“Thanks,” I answered, tucking the round lens into a small case for safekeeping. Kris had told me to bring the seemingly broken piece of technology to one of his friends in the department to get fixed earlier that week, but as it had been recently revealed, there was nothing wrong with it.

Back home, I opened the case and stared a beat at the curved synthetic polymer that used to belong to Kris. Sitting down on the couch, I picked up the lens carefully and put it in my left eye, blinking a couple times to let it settle into place. For a moment, I saw nothing out of the ordinary: the lens, when in standby mode, transmitted no information. A couple seconds later, the living room disappeared from my vision in my left eye, replaced with a blinking blue light. 

I let out a surprised ‘Oh!’, and closed the other eye to wait for the file to finish verifying my identity, idly wondering wondered what Kris would be doing now, if he was still around to be doing it. I cracked a grin when I imagined the room filled with the people I used to spend my days with, as recently as last week. Huang Zitao would probably be trying to guide me towards the couch, though in reality, he’d probably lead me in the wrong direction on purpose, and Luhan would be wearing a playfully mocking look on his face. ‘You look like an idiot,’ Luhan would have said regarding the blind manner that I would be conducting myself. Zhang Yixing would kick Luhan playfully under the table while my older brother, Minseok, would smack Luhan on the head with the magazine he was reading, “Stop picking on my little brother, asshole.” And Kris Wu would be seated in the corner with a newsreader, observing the whole scene with a passive look on his face, though the slight upturn of the corners of his mouth would give away the tiniest expression of amusement.

The light finally stopped flashing and I opened both eyes again in experimentation, getting a little confused when the room came back into focus but nothing played from the lens.

“Hey, Jongdae. I guess you’re wondering why I’ve left you this message, especially since I’m somewhere far away now, likely with Yixing. As a selfish need, I have to explain myself before I say goodbye a last time.”

 

_2112 – March 31_

“Oh come on, Kris. Just once? I swear I won’t break it!” Luhan was grovelling to Kris Wu, using his best impression of an innocent deer to try to get what he wanted.

Minseok had a habit of bringing his friends from work to our home and Luhan was the newest addition to the team of scientists Minseok worked with. While the group refused to divulge what they were working on, I had always been a bit jealous of how advanced the work they did seemed, in comparison to my job as a high school teacher.

Kris sighed, “It’s not a toy, Luhan,” he replied in his signature calm tone.

I grinned; the scenario had been repeated a million times before, always to the same effect. Kris was the lead scientist of the group and as such, he was given certain benefits. The one that intrigued Luhan the most was the lens in Kris’ left eye that was undoubtedly the most useful tool that had been invented within the last ten years. The nanocomputer had access to the Archives where digital information was stored, from the very first website to science journals (old and new) to classified government documents to the lesson plans I used in my classroom. Anything that had a digital copy could be downloaded into Kris’ lens. Luhan liked to call it the All-Seeing Eye, and sometimes referred to Kris as Big Brother, even though Luhan was the older of the two.

Luhan pouted when Kris continued to read from his digital book without so much as a glance upwards at Luhan. “You are no fun at all.” He wandered over to the couch where Minseok, Yixing and I were watching a 3-D movie that had been projected into the room to make it look like it was part of the set. He squished himself between Minseok and Yixing, illiciting grumbles from all three of us. “So, what do you guys think of the new recruits?”

“Won’t last the month,” Zitao called from the kitchen, where he had been trying to decide between apple crumble pie and ice cream for dessert. Finally opting to go for both, he picked up the two coloured pills and popped them into his mouth, letting them melt onto his taste buds before drinking from a glass of water to rinse his mouth. He rounded the kitchen sink and nudged Kris in the shoulder. “What do you think, oh wise leader of ours?”

Kris shrugged, and as usual, kept his opinions to himself. I had learned over the years not to expect too much from Kris, verbally anyway. I personally liked him best out of Minseok’s friends for this very reason, because I was much the same; I wasn’t the strongest when it came to expressing myself verbally.

“I think they’ll fit right in,” Luhan continued when Kris stayed quiet. “Right, Yixing?”

Yixing nodded offhandedly, his focus still on the images that played a few feet from where he sat. “Yeah. They seem alright.”

If soulmates existed, I firmly believed that Luhan and Yixing were meant for each other. They were best friends and even though there were no romantic feelings between the two, I could tell that the bond between them would be very difficult, if not impossible, to break.

“What about you, Minseokie?” Luhan had turned his attention to the person on his other side only to have him roll his eyes.

“Would you just stop talking a moment and let me watch in peace?” Minseok responded with a grin on his face.

Luhan deliberately put his face in front of Minseok’s, filling the entirety of the latter’s view, which made me laugh. “Careful, Luhan, or my brother might actually hit you.”

Luhan grinned, “Naw, Minseokie wouldn’t do that to me.”

I watched with amused arched eyebrow as Minseok glared at Luhan for a beat before putting his hand on Luhan’s face and pushing him back into his seat. Luhan only laughed, “See? Told you he couldn’t hit me. He loves me too mu- Ow!”

“Yes, but _I_ certainly can hit you,” Yixing laughed. “Now shut up and let us finish this movie.”

 

_2112 – May 7_

I soon discovered that the home I shared with my brother appeared to be getting smaller over the past month. Zitao had been wrong about the “new recruits” lasting only a month, and one by one, they started showing up at the Kim household. I certainly wasn’t as familiar with these six new faces as I was with Minseok’s original team, but given that the school year was drawing towards a close for the year, I had little doubt that he would get to know them by the time school started up again. I already knew that despite their company’s guidelines that were against inter-office relationships, the one called Byun Baekhyun was the boyfriend of the constantly smiling Park Chanyeol who seemed to idolize Kris; Luhan seemed to have practically adopted Oh Sehun as a younger brother, which I’d originally thought would make my brother jealous, but Minseok, as usual, was fine with the new development, and had taken to looking out for Sehun when Luhan wasn’t around, complaining jokingly with Kim Junmyun about the youngest’s childish antics; Yixing had forged a friendship with Kim Jongin, who had a suspiciously close connection to Do Kyunsoo, a quiet man who enjoyed cooking Real Food whenever supplies were available, making him instantly Zitao’s favourite of the bunch.

 

_2112 – June 19_

I turned off my teaching aid for the last time this school year with a satisfying click and packed it away into my bag.  School was finally over, and I couldn’t feel more excited. Of course, I loved my classes, but sometimes, my students pushed my buttons in ways I didn’t even know existed; I was just thankful that I could finally choose the company I would hold in the next two months, and they would definitely not consist of pubescent boys and girls who seemed only able to either throw rude insults or stare lustfully at each other.

Packing the last of his things into the trunk of my car, I pulled open the driver’s seat and started the engine with a wide smile. Tapping his tragus lightly against his earpiece, he spoke clearly, “Call Hyung,” and a moment later, Minseok’s voice spoke into my ear.

“What’s up?”

“Well, I just packed up from my last class. You have no idea how good that feels. Anyway, I was wondering if you had some time to hang out?” The car pulled itself effortlessly onto the street, joining the countless other computerized vehicles, and I turned my attention to a handheld device, flipping through recipes that I could use tonight.

“Uh,I told you yesterday that we’re running some important tests today,” Minseok’s voice answered, distracted by whatever he was doing.

I brought a palm to my forehead and berated myself for the lapse in memory, “Of course. I completely forgot. If you want, I can come round and drop off some dinner for you guys later tonight?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Look, I’m a little busy at the moment. I’ll see you later?”

I said goodbye, tapped my ear again to disconnect and re-commanded the car’s computer to bring me home instead of to Minseok’s lab.

…

When Jongdae showed up at Minseok’s workplace with containers of Real Food, he became the scientists’ new best-friend-for-the-night. As everyone lived primarily off of Caloric Cubes, the opportunity to actually chew their food always lifted everyone’s mood, even if it had cost them nearly an arm and a leg.

“Oh man, and here I was looking forward to my shepherd’s pie CC tonight!” Baekhyun remarked with mock disappointment, the first to dig into his meal.

Jongdae immediately sensed the tension between Baekhyun (who had flitted to Jongdae’s side as soon as he’d arrived) and Chanyeol, who was talking too animatedly to a half attentive Kris with even more enthusiasm than usual with his back turned towards Baekhyun. Jongdae leaned over to his other side and whispered to Jongin, making sure not to be overheard by Baekhyun, “What happened between those two clowns?”

Jongin rolled his eyes, “Oh, nothing, Baekhyun pointed out a tiny error in Chanyeol’s calculations and Chanyeol got pissed off and told him to mind his own business, which in turn got Baekhyun riled up, so now they aren’t talking to each other. Ten bucks says that by the time dinner is over, Baekhyun will be sitting in Chanyeol’s lap again.”

Jongdae mouthed an ‘Oh,’ and Jongin turned away, carrying two of the containers to join Kyungsoo. As Jongdae unpacked and distributed the last of the containers, he realised that someone was missing from the group. “Where’s Luhan?” he asked out loud, and ten heads motioned towards a door at the other end of the room.

“Looking for me?” Luhan asked as he joined them, “I was just finishing up some stuff.” His eyes fell on the container Jongdae held in his hand and he all but ran over, “Oh my god! Is this…?” He looked up at Jongdae hopefully and Jongdae laughed as he nodded. “You’re the best, Jongdae!” Luhan said as he ruffled Jongdae’s hair affectionately, “I knew I should’ve made _you_ my favourite Kim brother!”

“Hey!” came the muffled indignant voice of Minseok, whose mouth was too full for him to make a proper retort; he settled for glaring at Luhan instead.

Luhan only grinned impishly in return, skipping over to sit next to Minseok on the couch as he said his thanks to Jongdae for the meal, “You’ve got great timing,” he added with a wink before turning to make jokes at Minseok again and Jongdae caught a part of the conversation that sounded distinctly like ‘damn, no baozis this time.’

…

“That was delicious, Jongdae. Thanks.”

Jongdae looked up from collecting everyone’s container to find Kris, surprisingly, standing at his side with arms crossed. “It’s no problem,” he replied with a smile. Kris continued to stand fixed to the spot and looked intently at Jongdae, as if he wanted to say something else. “Kris?” Jongdae prompted, mimicking Kris’ stance.

Kris glanced at his watch momentarily before looking down at Jongdae again. He seemed to contemplate something before shaking his head with a sigh, “Nevermind. Make sure you get home safely, okay?”

  * Jongdae goes to leave (everyone screams their thanks), but forgets something, has to come back to get it (Kris gets a little freaked)
  * End up in the middle of a parking lot 100 years ago
  * …
  * All ask Kris to check his lens to see if it can help, Kris says it’s not working



 

 

 

 

“It doesn’t matter who we were, because at the end of the day, being one of the century’s academically brightest would do nothing to save us.” ?????

Kim Jongdae – only non-scientist, was visiting brother at work

  * Narrator, neutral
  * Younger brother of Minseok 
    * Majorly freaks out when Minseok dies, because of his warnings. Turns on Luhan, but decides his brother wouldn’t want him to be a killer so he knocks him out instead.



Luhan – mechanical engineer, newest addition

  * secret agenda, sent by “high-ups” to tie up all loose ends once experiment succeeds
  * kills Tao first, b/c knows can’t take him on otherwise if he found out truth 
    * when first arrived in 2012, got excited with motorcycle, confident he could drive it (3012 = all automated cars)
    * ends up taking Baekhyun with him as passenger 
      * Luhan purposely pulls back Sehun who had originally wanted to go with Tao
    * Sends updates to his bosses via “time capsules”, one way conversation



Kris Wu – quantum physicist, overseas

  * Leader of group of scientists
  * Has always been the anxious kind, and wondered what his bosses’ agenda was 
    * Gets suspicious of Luhan a couple of days after arrival
    * Wants to tell Yixing, but knows he won’t believe him



Kim Minseok

  * Found out Luhan’s plans
  * Passively warns Jongdae never to be alone in the same room as Luhan
  * Ends up killing himself because wants to prove to Luhan that he doesn’t actually want to get rid of the whole team: he’s the last death before the truth gets out.



 

Death Toll:

  * Tao & Baekhyun – motorcycle crash: hit by truck b/c faulty brakes didn’t work at red light (Luhan was the one who found the vehicles, tampers before going back to find others, originally said needed to “take a leak”) 
    * Others in cars
  * Chanyeol – not paying attention due to grief from Baekhyun: ends up touching live wires from fallen power lines? OR went to light fire, didn’t realise that air was full of flammables (paint? Dispersed flour?)
  * Junmyeon – “develops” asthma but limited medication because the stuff here disagrees with his body (actually Luhan poisoning his drinks), coughs up blood
  * Kyungsoo & Kai – Landslide: “Jongin, just let go!” (Luhan set up explosives)
  * Sehun – falling billboard from wind (Luhan researched beforehand/accident?)
  * Minseok – commits suicide with Luhan’s gun/random blade?
  * { Luhan, Jongdae, Kris, Yixing }



 

Epilogue: Kris and Yixing manage to get away/get spared and stay in 2012, Chen and Luhan return to 3012

 

 


	3. [Xiuhan, minor Fanxing] Rise of the Guardians x MAMA Crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim Minseok is next in line to the throne of the Water house, but he has a secret: his powers aren't his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO DOESN'T LOVE THE MAMA POWERS?!?!?! And who doesn't like Rise of the Guardians?!?! So uh why not throw them all together? Yup! This is was mostly inspired by Lu Han's beautiful white hair and a timely rewatch of the movie. I really loved this AU but as usual, my wants outweigh my abilities D; This would've required so much character design for all the members and just... (sorry but I stan exo-m so my knowledge of k is not really there OTL)
> 
> No character death! But some bullying and scheming. And Kris as a mf-ing dragon. And aliens! Basically a sci-fi/fantasy mash-up!

Luhan meets Minseok when he’s a kid. Kids’ powers start showing up at different times, but all usually before they are ten. Sorted into special classes (outside of Third Earth schools) so they learn to control it and not expose themselves (sorted not by age but by abilities). At four, kids at the preschool/daycare like to make fun of Minseok because he’s quiet and doesn’t quite fit in. Minseok doesn’t seem to be in possession of any powers and even though his parents try not to show it, Minseok knows that they are worried. Meets Luhan somewhere a week around his tenth birthday and Luhan agrees to help him with this power thing because he’s so excited that someone sees him.

Teenage Minseok is recognized as the student with the most control (because it’s actually Luhan). Minseok is mature for his age but he’s still getting shit from the other kids in school because he’s different and doesn’t act like he’s better than humans. In general, Minseok doesn’t have the same mentality as the others. He’s not outgoing and likes to keep to himself, and has been caught “talking to himself” because he was chatting with Luhan.

Twenty three is the age of maturity and Minseok’s parents expect Minseok to be taking on the role of Head of House but Minseok doesn’t think he can. He knows he doesn’t actually have the powers and tries to prove it to his parents but they just think he’s being rebellious because they’ve heard from all the teachers and basically everyone that Minseok’s great at manipulating ice. Minseok retorts by saying that the house of water should be run by someone who knows WATER then and says his younger brother is better equipped to do it. He’s also top of his class and he actually knows what he’s doing, unlike himself.

Luhan asks Minseok why he doesn’t want to run the house and Minseok hesitantly says it’s because the families are about ready to head back home because after so many years, it appears that their home planet has recovered and they’ll be heading back. “I don’t want to leave earth. I have friends here. _You’re_ here.” Luhan is startled for a moment and leans in to kiss Minseok. “Then stay here. Stay with me.” Minseok’s startled at both the suggestion and what just happened. “I- But. They’re my family… I-” “Oh, uhm. Well I just thought… Nevermind then.” “No, wait, Luhan! I didn’t mean- I just. I didn’t think that you-” “It’s okay. I get it.” Luhan takes off and he tries not to hear the way Minseok and calling out his name.

 

Lu Han white hair references: 

<http://25.media.tumblr.com/7a783803e94147b818ab34a792d0ace7/tumblr_mk67qjmvrs1qhmxnlo1_1280.jpg>

<https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/p480x480/63944_545750762113916_1214863547_n.jpg>

 

* * *

 

 

Houses of Earth (土, tu), Water (水, shui), Fire (火, huo), and Air (氣, qi) with each their own leader. The four houses maintain the order, and power wise, that’s the order of hierarchy. The houses have long lost their purebloodedness due to necessity to survive here. By now, centuries later, almost everyone has “human” blood in them (both parents are halfbloods). They are not so much “aliens” as they are simply travelers between parallel dimensions. They have an Earth there, but it’s not the same.

Minseok is the eldest son of water house, younger brothers Junmyeon and Jongdae. Jongdae controls lightning and when he gets emotional, he can make lightning storms which he couldn’t control as a kid, and even now, sometimes when can’t control emotions, can make the lights flicker a bit. Water tends to be between Earth and Fire in terms of emotional stability (you get mellow like minseok and sometimes uncontrollable like Jongdae, though Chen often considered the strongest of the three). Earth is a calm house and members are often coolheaded and always thinking logically. Fire is known for acting impulsively, especially in this generation where the heir befriended a dragon even though everyone knows they’re unstable and symbols of chaos and destruction. Air tends to be treated as the weakest of all the houses (but also the purest of bloods because they had the largest population when they left Seventh, also have the broadest range of powers). Kai was nicknamed such because of Air House’s belief that he’ll be able to change the way things are right now, opening doors, etc. Older than Sehun, but Sehun still has blood of the royal family in him; Kai adopted because outsider whose powers were found out by Air House, don’t know what family he’s from, but obvious he’s from Seventh.

Zitao = Father Time   
Luhan = Frost  
Minseok alt Xiumin = first son, heir to Water House  
Junmyeon alt Suho = Minseok’s younger brother  
Jongdae alt Chen = youngest brother of Water house, brings thunderstorms with Suho, can make lightning storms when angry/emotional  
Sehun = Heir to Air House  
Chanyeol = Heir to Fire House  
Kyungsoo = Heir to Earth House  
Jongin = Bully, rebel, always picks on Minseok because he _knows_ Minseok doesn’t have powers, can’t believe he’s always second to the likes of Minseok; technically belongs to Air House  
Kris = Dragon, volatile, flies and out as he pleases, but mostly just for Chanyeol who ‘claimed’ him as a child. Has multiple forms: human, semi human, full dragon  
Yixing = ‘Human’ med school student, claimed by Kris to be “his human”, learns that he’s got a drop of “Seventh Earth” blood in him, which is why he’s so good at the med school side of stuff, can’t decide if he wants to leave with the rest of the clan back to Seventh Earth, but since Kris is from Third and he barely qualifies as a healer any more, he stays.   
Baekhyun = ‘Human’; Like Yixing, powers have diluted too much to actually go back to Seventh, but his family always brought the light in times of darkness, and he still has some ability to affect human mood (positively). Family removed themselves from the Clan due to their dwindling powers and thought it best to live as Third Earth humans. **OR** Guardian angel that dislikes Frost because his TITLE has guardian, so why isn’t he a Guardian?

 

//////////

 

At seventeen, Kim Minseok is head of his class with Luhan at his side, though everyone just thinks it’s his parents’ genes coming through. Kai doesn’t buy any of it because all the way until he was 10, he didn’t have ANY powers and now suddenly, he’s the strongest? Luhan is out playing with a local elementary school because sitting around in high school level history class with Minseok is suuuuper boring! Gets a little too into the snowball fight and is late for lunch with Minseok which is when Kai decides that he’s had enough of Minseok. Grabs him by surprise and teleports the two of them to the top of a cliff and hovers over the ridge for a moment with a smirk on his face. “Good luck getting out of _this_ one, Prince Xiumin.” And he lets go and teleports away. Calls out for Luhan but the wind seems to eat his words. Besides, he has no idea where he is, how would he know if Luhan even heard him? He closes his eyes  and waits for the end.

 

… _Flashback:_

 

Frost behaves a lot like at the beginning of the movie and gets intrigued by a kid staring up at the falling snow while sitting on a picnic table. Frost makes it snow extra around Minseok, making pretty patterns on the bench sheet which makes Minseok jump but look intrigued and Frost smiles because he’s cute. Gets distracted by a snowball fight at the elementary school across the street and forgets about Minseok until a while later when Minseok is walking home and he slips and cuts his hand. Frost rushes to his side and suggests using the snow to clean??? But then rmbrs Minseok can’t see him anyway. “Oh, thanks, I guess. Though it’d probably be better to use actual water.” “What did you say?” “Water would probably be better?” “You can see me? You can _hear_ me?” Minseok gives Frost a funny look and then just walks away while muttering how weird that just was. Frost is startled and follows Minseok home discreetly.  Luhan sits on the roof of Minseok’s house that night making icicles on the overhanging electricity lines. Light in Minseok’s room turns on and catches Luhan’s attention so he creeps along the roof until he peaks over the edge. Creeps further because can’t see and ends up suspended upside down in front of the window as he watches Minseok fold laundry into his dresser. Crosses his arms as he watches and the windows start frosting up in front of him. Gets distracted by his own reflection as he stares at his white hair, thinking back to when he had a family a hundred years ago. Doesn’t notice when Minseok notices him until the window opens and startles him enough to make him fall to the ground. “Oh my god! Are you okay?!” Luhan rubs his head and looks around for his dropped staff. Minseok shows up beside him shivering in a sweater. “You okay?” Luhan stares a little blankly at Minseok because it’s like Minseok is talking to HIM. “Are you talking to me?” Minseok looks at Luhan funny and crouches down next to him to look at him closer, “Did you hit your head?” Minseok asks with concern, “Maybe you should lie down…” Luhan jumps at the touch of Minseok’s hand because it feels SOLID! Minseok continues to look at Luhan with concern until he seems to recognize him, “Wait, weren’t you the guy from earlier today?” “You really can see me!” Luhan gets so excited that he goes to hug Minseok, only to let go when he spots his staff on the ground a little ways away. Grabs it and takes off without thinking. Only when he’s standing on top of a lamp that he remembers Minseok who has resorted to walking back to the front door while muttering to himself, “No of course I was day dreaming. It’s getting late, the lighting is poor, definitely just seeing things. I think I’ll just head to bed early tonight. Yeah, and I’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will just be normal. Yes.” A smile spreads across Luhan’s face as he watches Minseok talk to himself, leaning on his staff.

Next day, Luhan finds Minseok walking to school (they go to school like normal humans so they don’t draw too much attention to themselves, go to special after school classes). Minseok doesn’t notice Luhan until he’s dropped off his younger brothers at the ir respective classes. “Are you following me?” “Following you?” “You’re the kid from yesterday. The guy I thought I was dreaming up, but here you are again.” Luhan doesn’t answer. “ Didn’t you fall off my roof last night? Are you okay?” Luhan finds it funny that this ten year old is worried about someone as old as himself. “I’m Kim Minseok, by the way.” Minseok holds his hand out to shake and Luhan thinks it’s hilarious that this tiny kid acts like an old man but he smiles and takes the hand anyway. “I… I go by Frost.” Minseok’s eyes widen, “Frost? Like Jack Frost? I KNEW you were real!” Luhan grins almost stupidly. “Yeah! Who else do you think give you all those snow days?” Stabs his staff into the snow bank and then bends over to grab a handful of snow and starts forming a snowball. “Hey dork! You starting to talk to yourself now?” It’s Kai from across the street, hanging out with Sehun and Tao who laugh along with him. Luhan cocks his head to the side and tosses the snowball in his hand up and down. “Who’re they?” “Uhm…  Well, that’s Kim Jongin. Calls himself Kai though. The one with the scary eyes is Huang Zitao, and the one who looks like a girl is Oh Sehun.” Luhan raises his eyebrows at his choice of description. “You don’t like them, do you?” “Oh no, I don’t really have a problem with them. It’s them that have the problem with me.” “Hey, dork! I asked you a question!” “Isn’t he… younger than you?” No answer. “I take that as a yes. I think he could use with some manners, don’t you?” Doesn’t wait for an answer before he throws a snowball in Kai’s face that makes him fall on his butt. Minseok can’t help but laugh which only spurs Luhan on as he throws a bunch more, making sure to ice the ground so that the trio lose their balance. Kai shoots Minseok a dirty look before teleporting out with Sehun and Tao close behind. By the time Minseok gets to school, Kai has tattled to a teacher. “You know we’re not supposed to use powers outside of the class room. It’s too dangerous and people could find out about us.” “But I-” The principal lets out a long sigh though because at least this means that Minseok DOES have powers, “Were you just hiding it this whole time?” Luhan is there the entire time, making funny faces behind the principal and Minseok is trying really hard not to laugh, so he just hangs his head in an attempt to ignore Luhan.

Luhan tags alongside Minseok all day which makes Minseok feel a little special because no one else believes in Jack Frost. When recess comes along, Minseok suits up quickly and then heads outside to his favourite spot under a tree. “So, why do they call you Jack Frost?” Shrug. “That’s what the man on the moon named me.” “The Man on the Moon?” “Don’t give me that look.” Minseok takes a bite of his cookie, “What look? I was just asking.” “Tch.” “So… have you always been like this?” “Huh?” “Well.. you look… human…?” “Well, so do all of you here at this creepy school of yours, but that’s not true, now is it? Except maybe you. You don’t seem to have powers like all your classmates.” Minseok glares at him and since Luhan likes having this new friend, he shares. “I WAS human, had a family and everything to. But I died in an accident. And now I’m who they call Jack Frost.” “So… what were you called when uhm, you were alive?” Hesitates. “I think it was Luhan.” “Luhan? That’s a nice name. Can I call you that?” “Sure, I guess? Now, what about you?” “Me? What about me?” “You and all the students in this school. You aren’t human, right?” Minseok takes a slow breath. “No. We’re not. You see that kid over there with the really stupid smile on his face?  His name is Park Chanyeol. He’s heir to the Fire house.” “The what?” “Fire House.” Minseok grabs a twig and starts drawing in the dirt/snow. “Where I come from, there are four Houses.” “Wait, back up. ‘Where you come from?’” Minseok laughs, “Seventh Earth.” Luhan speechless. “We’re from a planet outside of your solar system.” “What’re you doing on earth then?” “Uhm, we lost our home in a battle?” Blank stare, but urges Minseok to continue. “The Four Houses: Tu, Shui, Huo, Qi.” “Hold up. Those names…” “Yeah, we’ve been here a while. Maybe even longer than you.” “Don’t get cocky, you’re like 10 years old.” Minseok rolls his eyes because Luhan is being snarky because of age. “Don’t make me call you old.”

 

… _End flashback_

 

Back to present with Minseok. Opens eyes and wonders if he’s dead? “Hey, you finally coming round?” “??” “How you feelin’?” “Am I…?” “No, not quite dead yet.” “What happened?” “I have no idea. One second I’m starting a snowball fight and the next, I’m here getting crushed by you. I’m assuming you fell, but what the hell are you doing all the way out here in the mountains in the first place?” “Oh, uhm…” hesitates as he tries to sit up because not sure if he should worry Luhan about Kai, because Luhan already doesn’t like Kai after all these years and doesn’t want to cause any trouble. Luhan seems to be able to guess anyway but doesn’t say anything and just helps Minseok. “Anything broken?” “I think I might’ve sprained my wrist.” “Can you stand up?” Manages it with the help of Luhan’s arm around his waist. “Let’s get you out of this blizzard first okay?” “Where are we?” “I have no idea, which is why I need to get you some place safe so I can figure it out.” “I’m sorry I’m so much trouble.” “Sorry? Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault.” Sets Minseok down, “I’ll be back as quick as I can, okay?”

 

* * *

 

 

_Kris understands not what the term ‘family’ means, having been hatched to the heat of an active volcano. He has had a fair amount of mates, all of whom had been hunted and slain by humans for their apparently valuable hides. He knows not his age, having stopped counting after the hundred-and-seventy-eight year when he learned he was also a shape shifter._

_Kris would be lying if he said he hunted humans to avenge his murdered mates; his kind didn’t get overly attached to their mates, anyway. Humans simply tasted better than the other available warm-blooded food sources, and to be quite honest, Kris liked the fight he got out of them, even if they only lasted minutes. His favourite thing was probably the wide-eyed fear in their expressions as they watched him shift to his natural form from his human body._

…

The black dragon roared indignantly at the tiny human below him who was looking up at the creature before him curiously as a chain of flames extended from his hand and wrapped around the reptile’s neck, painting a line of bloody red against his solid black body. How dare a _human child_ humiliate him like this?

But this child didn’t smell human, despite his appearance, and the way the fire had suddenly appeared at his command was _definitely_ not human. “Who are you?” he barked in a deep voice, trying to ignore the sting of the heat. Who was this strange child who could control a flame hotter than Kris’ own?

“I- My name is Ch-Chanyeol,” the human-like boy squeaked, the rope of dancing red and orange flickering ever so slightly.

“How are you able to do this?”

Another squeak escaped the boy, “I-I have always b-been able t-to. J-Just like P-Papa.”

The dragon’s ridged tail swished back and forth slowly before he shifted to his human shape, losing more than half his original height and surprising Chanyeol enough to break his concentration on his burning chain. “Bring me to him.”

…

The dragon stared down from his perch on a high branch at the dwelling he’d just left. ‘ _House of Fire, huh?’_ he mused to himself as he contemplated the Head-of-House’s offer.

“Hey! Are you the Dragon that Chanyeol brought back today?” A hiss was the dragon’s automatic response as he looked down through the foliage to locate the source: a small male with vivid purple hair carrying a snow white rabbit in his arms staring up the trunk of the tree. “Hello?”

“What do you want?” he called down, hardly bothering to cover up his irritation; just because he’d promised he wouldn’t hunt from the area did not mean he had to be civil with them.

“They asked if I could take a look at your wounds, but I can’t help you if you’re hiding up in a tree.” The dragon simply grunted his dismissal. “I’ve got all day, you know,” came the soft voice again and the beast watched with irritation as the purple haired boy took a seat at the base of the trunk, petting the rabbit in his arms in between the ears. Resigned to the fact that this particular problem wasn’t going away by itself, the dragon lifted his wings and dropped lightly to the forest ground, hitting it with two human feet as he shifted to his alternate human form. The boy stepped forward and frowned, “I can’t help you in that form.”

Another hiss, “What help would I need from a half-human like you?” The dragon debated transforming and simply swatting the boy aside in his full height, but decided it wouldn’t do him any good to offend anyone before he’d made a concrete decision about the House of Fire’s offer. “Fine,” he muttered, drawing himself to his full height once more.

The boy hummed his approval, “Oh, you can call me Yixing, by the way. Do you have a name?”

“Not one I can remember,” the dragon answered with hesitation; he couldn’t recall the last time someone had asked for his name.

“Hmm, can I give you one then?” The boy-who-called-himself-Yixing asked as he circled the dragon, taking care not to step on the tail. “Can I call you Kris?” he continued, not bothering to wait for permission. “Your human form looks like it would have a name like Kris. And it would be easier if you had a name so I didn’t have to refer to you as just ‘Dragon’.”

The pitch black reptile snorted, a small stream of flames setting a falling leaf on fire and turning it to ash before it could hit the soil.

“I’m taking that as a yes then, Kris!” There was a pause as the boy finished his survey and looked straight up at his patient, “You can regenerate, can’t you? And I’m assuming that by now, you’ve realised that Chanyeol’s fire is laced with magic that keeps you from healing yourself properly. Please don’t get angry with him though, he doesn’t really know how to control it. He’s kind of slow with the learning,” Yixing giggled and the dragon had to growl to get the boy’s focus back, “If you want, I can help you before that scars.”

The proud reptile scowled at the idea of getting help, but the ring around his neck still prickled and he preferred if it _didn’t_. Reluctantly, he dropped down on all fours and padded forwards slightly. “This might tickle…” was the only warning before the dragon felt something cool pushing out the throbbing in his neck and another minute later, all the prickling had disappeared. “Better now?” The dragon grunted before licking a paw and starting to climb up the tree again.

“Hey, Kris!” the boy called up after him, “If you need anything else, just ask for me, okay? I live like five minutes away.”

The dragon stayed perched on his branch watching the boy named Yixing skip across the street and enter a house half a block away, deciding right then to accept the offer extended to him an hour earlier. But he wasn’t accepting to be loyal to the House of fire, he was accepting the opportunity to be allowed to be around him, _Yixing_ , to be allowed to know the boy with the fiercely purple hair that had gone and made the dragon indebted to him by giving him a _name._

A smile crept onto his dark features and Kris let it; for the first time in a hundred and sixty eight years, he might actually be starting to feel _happy._

 


	4. [Fanxing] Childhood friends to lovers AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adopted into the Zhang Family at a young age, Kris realises that he can never see Yixing as the younger brother he is meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are two tumblr requests I got that I mashed into a single fic. I ended up not actually doing it just cus I don't particularly like either of the themes of childhood friends to lovers or adopted siblings in a romantic relationship on a very personal level. It was probably the reason why I lumped them together in the first place, cus I didn't want to do a whole fic for either of those themes. Add the playboy trope in there and I'm really not sure what on earth made me think I could do this fic in the first place...
> 
> Request1: "Kris realized that he love his childhood friend, yixing, more than just a friend with huang zitao, the famous playboy of their campus started to get interested with innocent yixing."
> 
> Request2: "Kris was adopted by the zhang family when he was five. He tried to run away once by eventually decided to stay because of his foster younger brother, yixing. When they grew up, he realized that his love toward yixing is something beyond brotherly love"

 

Kris turned the door handle slowly, carful to make as little sound as he could as he pushed open the door, pausing momentarily when the hinges creaked slightly.

“Hey,” he whispered into the dark room as he carefully closed the door behind him again. “You okay?”

The small mound under the blanks moved slightly and Kris imagined Yixing was trying to nod. He crept slowly to the side of the bed, though he really didn’t need to keep trying to stay quiet; the fight downstairs was more than enough to cover up any sounds he made. Kris stopped at the edge of the bed and sighed as he waited half a second before a hand pulled the blanket down to below Yixing’s chin. “Hi, Kris,” the younger mumbled with a forced smile, “I’m fine, you should go back to sleep.”

Kris laughed lightly, “I’m not tired,” he answered, even though what he wanted to say was ‘How is anyone supposed to sleep with all that noise downstairs?’

Yixing shuffled over a little on the bed to make room for Kris as the older slipped out of his slippers and climbed up to join the younger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully, I really thought I had more written for this HAHAHA sorry for wasting a whole chapter on this xD


	5. [Fanxing] Pacific Rim AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drift Compatible Kris Wu and Zhang Yixing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be the first to admit that Pacific Rim isn't the best movie out there but like... pilots controlling giant mechas and fighting aliens?!?!? Uhm sign me tf up.  
> This is one of the documents that got lost in the Great Demise of Miranda (my USB drive). Pro-tip, boys and girls: BACK YOUR SHIT UP. The original document had a lot of the couple exploring each other's darkest memories and helping each other through it. There was supposed to be a lot of psychological stuff in this fic but after I lost everything, I just kept forgetting/not wanting to rewrite everything off the top of my head. Side pair: Xiuhan

Kris stood with his hand behind his back as he listened to the speech his trainer proudly recited in front of 500 other soldiers. He was one of the ten graduates that year, placing second to one Kim Minseok by a fraction of a mark on his practical. He controlled the grin on his face as he recalled the fact that only the top three students were granted the opportunity to become the lead operator, to be able to choose their partner from a pool instead of having to go through the process of trying out.

His hard work had finally paid off.

Kris kept his expression straight as he stepped forward to receive the golden pin his mentor pressed into the lapel of his uniform. “Congratulations, soldier,” were the only words shared between them and Kris nodded politely as he stepped back into line again.

…

 

 

Kris leans casually on the door frame that Yixing has forgotten to close when he returned from another failed test to connect with a newly promoted captain. The tall blond stands with his arms crossed on his chest for a moment as he stares at the back of the younger’s head, “Hey, you okay?”

Yixing’s head snaps around quickly from his desk and he nearly falls out of his chair in alarm. “Y-yeah, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

A muscle clenches in Kris’ jaw as he recalls the anxiety he went through himself only a year ago when it was his turn to stand in front of countless captains with the hopes of being selected to co-pilot a beautiful Jaeger. He was in the top five of his class at the time and still had to go through more than a dozen tests before he was matched with his current co-pilot, Lu Han. Yixing, on the other hand, was only average with his marks and this was already his twenty third audition.

Kris pushes himself off the door frame and straightens the pilot pin on his uniform before looking up at Yixing (who has righted the tipped over chair and moved instead to his bed in the corner).


	6. [Fanxing] ???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a summary, this doc was literally named "random fic ideas." Pretty sure this was just a file of random scenes to put into whatever actual fic plots I might have in the future??? I don't know but have it :|

Zhang Yixing wished Wu Fan would stop showing up to his doorstep covered in blood. Yes, the fact that they were best friends ever since they were children made it difficult to refuse him, but sometimes, Yixing just wanted to slam the door in Wu Fan’s face for forgetting his key again.

Yixing certainly should have expected that Wu Fan would take a bad turn in his life, he could’ve seen it from a mile away, from the first time Wu Fan had skipped class when he was seven years old to pull flowers out of his neighbour’s garden to the time when Wu Fan had skipped class in high school, this time to make out with one of his boyfriends in the back of his car. There was also the time when Wu Fan had come home insisting that Yixing start calling him Kris because the name “Wu Fan” just wasn’t cool enough; Yixing had laughed out loud, rolled his eyes and asked if _Wu Fan_ wanted dinner.

Yixing was probably the opposite of Wu Fan: he was the top of his class, graduating with an MBA that supplemented his undergraduate engineering degree. He paid for way more than fifty percent of the rent for the apartment he and Wu Fan lived in and often found himself picking up the tab whenever he and Wu Fan went out, but he didn’t mind too much, because that’s what friends did.

…

Wu Fan came stumbling home one night, holding an empty glass bottle in his hand. Yixing was accustomed to having his roommate barge home drunk, and usually not alone. On those days when Yixing would hear a ruckus outside his closed bedroom door, Yixing would usually pull out his headphones, and start playing music at an obnoxiously high volume to drown out the grunts and moans coming from the room next door.

 

* * *

 

 

Yixing stood with his arms crossed as he watched Luhan stir cookie batter in a large bowl. He’d changed out of his sweatpants into a pair of loose jeans, but hell if he was changing out of his hooded sweater. Yixing didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry right now because Luhan had flour all over his face while currently reducing Yixing’s kitchen to a pig sty. He had half a mind to just go over and give Luhan a hand, but he was still feeling indignant about the way Luhan had called him out and wanted him to suffer, even if a little. It was his idea to host the damn party anyway.

Luhan blew at a hair that had fallen in front of his eyes and scowled at Yixing, “Are you just going to keep being useless over there?” he asked in a disgruntled voice.

Yixing nodded, “Yeah, pretty much. That’s what you get for being an ass earlier.”

Luhan grabbed a handful of flour and attempted to throw it at Yixing, making him laugh out loud because the flour barely even made it half a foot. “God, Xingie, quit laughing and just help me out, would you?!”

Yixing only continued to laugh as the timer on the oven went off and he went over to open the stove door, “Fine, I’ll help, but I make no promises on the laughing part.” Yixing looked down at the first batch of cookies Luhan had made with a grimace, “You’re thinking of actually serving these?” Yixing asked, raising an eyebrow as he poked at a hard lump that Luhan claimed to be edible. “And why are we making _cookies_? Isn’t that more of a Chrismas thing than a New Year’s Eve thing?”

Luhan rolled his eyes, “There is no ‘appropriate time’ to make cookies. I want cookies so I’m making them. Also, it’s cold in the apartment.”

Yixing scoffed as he used his hip to push Luhan aside, “You wanted cookies so you decided to make some? How on earth did you forget that _you don’t know how to bake_?”

…

“What the hell is this, Luhan?” Yixing pointed above his head at the plant hanging from the ceiling, still bearing its berries. “Why is there mistletoe hanging in the living room? Christmas was a week ago.”

Luhan grinned as he pulled one of Yixing’s cookies off the cooling rack, “So? It’s my party and I can hang whatever I want!”

Yixing scowled, “Yes, but this is also _my_ apartment, and I don’t much enjoy having parasitic plants as decorations,” he countered, grabbing a chair so he could reach up to remove the offensive decoration. “And what do you need mistletoe for anyway, you kiss Minseok any time anyway.”

Luhan laughed in between bites, “That was really more for your benefit than mine, you know.”

Yixing scowled again as he threw the removed plant in Luhan’s direction.

 

* * *

 

 

Wu Fan’s life has no direction and it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. His parents wanted him to be a doctor, or a lawyer, but instead, Wu Fan dropped out of university and took up post as a cashier at a fast food restaurant. Sick of hearing his parents mutter about how much wasted potential he has, Wu Fan uses what he earns to pay rent for a studio apartment a few blocks from where he works.

Wu Fan has no interest in maintaining a steady relationship, flitting from one partner to the next. He doesn’t care much for seeing anyone for more than a handful of times, and even then, they are always just physical affairs. He meets them at bars, or leaves his number for waiters at restaurants, or outright asks a customer if they were busy that night. He doesn’t think much about how he lives until he meets Zhang Yixing.

Zhang Yixing is a financial analyst at a bank, but Wu Fan doesn’t learn of this until later. He meets Yixing at a club, standing with his back against the wall in a button-up shirt and a loosened tie underneath a suit jacket, his hand gripping a beer bottle tightly. Wu Fan thinks to himself that the man with the scowl on his face could not look any more displeased to be there, nor could he look any more out of place; who the hell wears a tailored suit to a club?

Wu Fan decides that this wallflower would be a fun challenge and he asks the bartender for two shots of tequila, picking the small glasses up and walking over to the awkward man who clearly doesn’t want to be here.

“So, which one of these lovely ladies forced you to come here?” Wu Fan yells over the music, leaning towards the stranger so he can be heard. The DJ booth is only a couple feet away and the closest speaker is less than half that distance.

Wu Fan’s target takes a swig from his bottle and points in the general direction of a group of giggly girls who have a poor sense of rhythm. Wu Fan nods like he understands, and offers one of the glasses he’s holding, “You’ll need it if you want to survive the rest of the night,” Wu Fan explains when he receives a sceptical look. The two knock back their drinks and set the empty glasses down on a nearby table.

Wu Fan signals vaguely towards the dance floor with his head, “My roommate dragged me here,” he makes up, trying to strike up a conversation. He holds out his hand to shake, “Wu Fan.”

“Zhang Yixing,” he answers as he takes Wu Fan’s hand. “And I doubt anyone made you come here. You seem to be right at home.”

“Pardon?” Wu Fan asks.

“You’ve been on the dance floor for an hour, and you’ve ordered more than a handful of drinks. You seem to be able to talk to anyone, and you’ve hit on at least two people already. If you’re planning on making me the third, I’ll save you the trouble; I’m not interested.”

An eyebrow rises on Wu Fan’s face and an amused smile plays on his lips, “You’ve been watching me?” he asks, his tone suggestive.

Yixing rolls his eyes and continues to yell, “You’re taller than most people here and you’re kind of hard to miss.”

Wu Fan glares at Yixing playfully, “So you wanna get out of here? Something tells me that you’re not going to want to stand here awkwardly for the next four hours.”

Yixing grins and shrugs his shoulders, “Maybe one of those seats will be empty soon,” he jokes, declining Wu Fan’s offer subtly.

Wu Fan turns and asks the DJ to borrow a pen and returns to grab Yixing’s arm, “Fine, but if you change your mind, you can reach me here.” Wu Fan scribbles his digits on Yixing’s arm before capping the lid and returning the pen on his way out of the club. This is likely the first time the Wu Fan is leaving a club without having first disappeared into a bathroom stall with someone else.

…

Wu Fan forgets about Yixing until he shows up at his work with his hair dishevelled. Yixing requests the daily special, adding to the end of his order the name of the cashier. Wu Fan doesn’t notice his name on Yixing’s lips until he returns with a Coke. “Wait, what did you say?” He asks out loud as his mind struggles to put a name to the face.

Yixing grins as he takes his drink from Wu Fan before it gets dropped, “I asked if I can get my meal to go, _Wu Fan_ ,” he answers, emphasizing the end.

Wu Fan narrows his eyes, “Do I know you?”

The smile on Yixing’s lips only pulls wider in mockery, “ _Unbelievable_ ,” he mutters before stepping aside to wait for the rest of his order, shaking his head with a mildly amused expression.

Wu Fan tilts his head slightly to the side, looking Yixing up and down again; he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to someone who looks as poorly put-together as the person who is currently busy checking his phone and he _knows_ that he’d never forget a body like _that_. He proceeds with the order slowly in a perplexed fashion, handing the folded paper bag over with a suspicious look. He ignores the customer next in line, who has begun waving his hand in front of Wu Fan’s face annoyingly, in favour of imagining the retreating  stranger with a beer in hand and under significantly poorer lighting.

“Hey, Wu Fan! Line’s not getting any shorter.” Wu Fan hears his manager’s irritating voice behind him but chooses to ignore that as well, jumping up on the counter so he can slide out after the unkempt customer. “What the hell are you doing?!” His manager yells after him, to which Wu Fan answers with a rude finger in the air behind him. “You come back here or you’re fired!”

Wu Fan turned so he can walk backwards, looking his boss in the eye with a smirk, “Can’t fire me if I quit!” He calls out in a singsong voice before stepping outside, looking for the suit amid the milling people. “Zhang Yixing!” He calls out to no specific body, hoping that one of them will turn around at his name. Wu Fan lucks out when a face turns not five feet from where he stands.

Yixing rolls his eyes when he finds the owner of the voice who had called his name. He doesn’t wait before turning around and continuing on his way.

“Hey, wait!” Wu Fan calls again.


	7. [Fanxing] "Through the Ages" / "Timeless" / "Centuries"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmates!AU. Zhang Yixing, personal attendant to the Crown Prince, knows that he has no place falling love with his master so he keeps his feelings quiet. But when the Prince is murdered, he makes a deal with The Queen Mother of the West, obtaining immortality to avenge his Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a LOT of Kris dying in this fic and I use ALL his "known" names. His deal with the goddess was so that he could avoid the reincarnation cycle (thereby avoid losing his memories of his love for the Prince), but every deal has a price and he never manages to have a happy ending before Kris dies. He ends up waiting ages to meet with his soulmate, only to watch him die all the time. I pretty much have the first cycle completed except for all the lore (which came later as I tried to figure out a way to get the immortality for Yixing)
> 
> (Not sure if you've noticed my fascination with death yet lmfao)

# 1\. Li Jia Heng

Zhang Yixing first met him as Li Jia Heng, China’s crown prince and most treasured son of the current Emperor.

Even at a young age, the Prince had a knack for getting where he shouldn’t, a way of sweet-talking coupled with a talent for sneaking from the grasps of his caretakers. He’d duck out of math lessons to play in the gardens. He’d give his sword master the slip to escape to the kitchens and annoy the cooks. He’d avoid his calligraphy teacher and flirt with the handmaidens who cleaned his chambers.

Yixing was born within the palace walls, son of the Bookkeeper and his wife, given a proper education of literature and swordplay among other skills. He spent much of his time with his father, learning about every volume in the library, occasionally transcribing words carved into bamboo onto paper, as his father prepared him to take over the position when he grew older.

Yixing had been on an errand assigned to him by his librarian father when he came across the Prince trying to catch koi fish in one of the many palace ponds, having stolen out of his bedroom with the full moon high in the sky. Yixing may have never been in actual contact with any members of the royal family, but the gold paired with the green colour of growth of the Prince’s robe was unmistakeable. Yixing immediately got to his knees, bowing so deeply that his forehead knocked momentarily against the ground, his voice trembling as he greeted the Prince with the respectful salutations.

“Get up, get up!” the Prince ordered informally with childish laughter, high-pitched voice overflowing with playfulness. “Come help me catch one!” He shrieked gleefully.

Yixing froze in his spot with his head still pressed to the ground in front of him, startled. “I… Your humble servant dares not, Your Majesty.”

Yixing heard the Prince sigh loudly, the sound followed by splashing; he guessed the Prince was wading out of the water. Yixing didn’t move a muscle, hands planted firmly on the ground in front of him on either side of his head.

“Quit being such a hard ass,” the Prince laughed, and Yixing had to refrain from gasping at the harsh language inappropriate of a royal. “Goody two-shoes never have fun,” the Prince continued, grabbing one of Yixing’s hands and pulling him to his feet.

Momentarily caught off guard by the action, Yixing rose, but he gathered his wits about him quickly, pulling his arm back to himself as he dropped to his knees again, eyes averted and staring fixed at the ground.

“Stop it. Come play with me.”

Yixing didn’t move.

The Prince sighed, “Is this to mean you’re defying a direct order?” he asked with mock sternness, changing his tactic.

Yixing looked up in shock, “Your servant dares not!” Yixing stuttered, daring a glance at the young Prince before lowering his eyes again.

“Oh, relax. Get up!” the young Prince laughed, his hand on Yixing’s again. “Now, come! Help me catch a fish!”

“I’m… Your servant isn’t sure how,” Yixing stumbled, stopping at the edge of the pond and staring as the Prince jumped in, not a care for the fine silk pyjamas he wore.

The Prince rolled his eyes, “Well, duh. Neither do I. That’s why we need to help each other! What’s your name?”

Yixing didn’t answer, worried about what it would mean to give his name to the Prince. _You are never to speak to any member of the Royal Family_ , his father voice boomed into his head as he shifted uncomfortably. Yixing knew his father would be enraged if he learned of this encounter, but just as the Prince said, Yixing couldn’t exactly afford to not obey a direct order.

“Name?” the Prince pressed again, his tone a touch impatient.

“Zh-Zhang Yixing, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing deeply once more, before letting the Prince pull him into the pond.

…

Yixing learned quickly that the Prince had no problem abusing his standing above Yixing to coerce him into doing favours for him. It was the beginning of a somewhat one-sided relationship and with no safe way to object, Yixing was stuck being the Prince’s unwilling playmate, joining the six year old in his silly plans to steal sweets from the kitchens.

It was a strange friendship, but Yixing didn’t terribly mind; at least the frequent outings deviated from the boring learnings about the organization of the documents in the library from his father (from whom he kept the play-dates with the Prince secret).

…

“So many books,” the Prince commented, tracing his fingers along the shelves of bound pages, “Aren’t you concerned that they might catch fire, Xingxing?”

Yixing snorted as he copied the titles of the books stacked in a pile on his left onto a page with an inked brush pen. “Yes, Prince. Because a fire in the Library is of your top priority.”

The Prince pulled a book from the collection, reading a random page idly. “No, if my father were to have his way, the entire country is at the top of my list of concerns.”

“Well, that _is_ your responsibility as the country’s crown prince. To take up your father’s position when the time comes?”

The Prince sighed, “I don’t want that.”

Yixing dipped his brush into the dish of black ink. “You’re just being rebellious, you spoiled brat.” Half a decade of being yelled at by the Prince to stop being so formal had finally broken through to him.

The Prince groaned, “You sound just like the Queen.”

“She’s your mother,” Yixing says flatly, reminding the Prince to address her as such.

The Prince groaned again, “And _now,_ you sound like Father.”

A laugh sounded from somewhere near the entrance to the library, “Are you speaking behind my back, Jia Heng? And shouldn’t you be in calligraphy class?”

Yixing nearly spilled his ink tray in alarm at the voice of his Emperor, folding his hands together respectfully to greet him with a tilt of his head.

The Prince groaned, “How did you find me?”

The monarch laughed again, acknowledging Yixing, “Truthfully, I must admit that the Library was the last place I would have guessed you were hiding at. I actually came here looking for my Librarian.” He turned to face Yixing, who nodded nervously immediately and left to search for his father in the deeper part of the Library.

“His Majesty has requested for you, Father,” Yixing announced dutifully when he found his father on a ladder sifting through old bamboo pages on the top shelf.

“Ah, yes. You stay here then, Yixing.”

Yixing nodded and watched his father leave, letting out a sigh of relief at finally being out of the company. He settled into a chair and gazed absentmindedly at the vast collection of bound documents around him as he waited for his father to return.

…

“Yixing. Yixing, _wake_ _up_.”

Yixing groaned as he tried to unglue his eyelids, noting that whoever was shaking him was doing so in a very rude way. “Mmm. What?” He rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, trying to push away the sleep that still lingered from his nap at the back of the library.

“The Emperor is asking for you.”

Yixing nearly fell off his seat, “What? Why? I haven’t done anything!” He wondered if the Prince had finally revealed to his father that Yixing had cracked one of the Queen’s favourite plates last week when the Prince was chasing him.

His father sighed, “I don’t know, Yixing, but it’s best if you didn’t keep him waiting.” He grabbed Yixing under the arm and dragged him to his feet. “He’s in the front. Hurry.” Just before reaching the dais where the Emperor waited, Yixing’s father stopped abruptly and turned to checke that Yixing’s clothes were acceptable before he gave him an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.” Yixing swallowed hard as he noted his father’s nervous smile. His eyes flickered frantically in the direction of the Emperor before landing on his father again, his palms already starting to feel sweaty. “It’ll be fine, Xing. When you’re done, I’ll have someone bring you those coconut desserts you love.”

The fact that his father was trying to use food as encouragement only made Yixing more anxious as he turned and stepped through towards China’s leader with his head hung, bowing deeply when he stopped several feet in front of him.

“What is your name?”

Yixing had to try twice before his voice came out when he cleared his throat, “Zhang Yixing, Your Majesty.” He still didn’t dare raise his head.

The Emperor let out a long and exasperated sigh, “Did you know that this is the first time I’ve even heard of the Prince being in the Royal Library of his own volition?”

Yixing didn’t answer but let himself breathe again, because the Emperor was most likely not here about the damaged dish; if he had been, Yixing would already be on his knees begging for forgiveness.

“I had no idea he even knew where this place was!” The Emperor laughed and Yixing nearly jumped out of his skin again, shuffling his feet backwards in surprise. “Relax, little one. I’m not going to hurt you. How old are you?”

Yixing lips his dry lips nervously, though it hardly proved effective; his tongue felt like sandpaper. “Th-thirt-teen years c-come the full moon, Y-Your Majesty.”

“Thirteen, huh? The Prince turns fourteen the moon after that,” The Emperor stated plainly, pausing to pick out a book from the shelf.

Yixing debated whether he should be giving a response in the silence that followed. He decided it was better to stay quiet. It was always better to stay quiet.

“The Prince, I’m sure you’ve heard, isn’t very good at staying out of trouble.”

For the first time since his father had announced that his presence was required by the Emperor, a smile crept onto Yixing’s face and he had to lower his head further to hide it.

“He won’t stay in his classes, and all he wants to do is play.”

Yixing wished the Emperor would get to the reason why he had summoned Yixing faster.

“I’d like for you to become his personal attendant.”

Yixing’s head shot up in surprise, “I-?” He started before remembering his manners, ducking his head once more, “I am honoured, but why, may I ask, have you chosen me?”

The Emperor sighed, “Because the damn kid just won’t stay put,” he answered, dropping all pretence of formality as he hit the side of the shelf with a fist in irritation, making Yixing jump back again. “You heard me before when Jia Heng was here, that I would have never guessed for him to have hidden in the Royal Library.

“The boy thinks that I don’t know what he does when he sneaks off, but I have an inkling. My servants talk, you know. They tell me that he is often seen dragging another boy with him, the son of one of my loyal advisors.”

Yixing’s eyes flew open at the reference and he hastily dropped on all fours, “Your servant was wrong to do so! I should not have done as such! It was not the fault of my father! He did not know about it!”

“No one is in trouble,” the Emperor clarified in a calm voice over Yixing’s childish pleas, “Please stand up. I’ve already stated my request for you to become my heir’s personal attendant. And if you want to know why, it’s because I believe that you are the only one who can get him in line. He was here in the library reading a book because you were here.”

Yixing thought it was unnecessary to inform the Emperor that the Prince was really only at the Library because he was trying to get Yixing to ditch his duties to play with him.

“I will send someone to sort out the details with you later tonight,” The Emperor finished before sending Yixing a hard look that held the unspoken warning of what would happen should Yixing fail at the job assigned to him.

Yixing bowed once more as the Emperor left the building with his attendants, and cursed rudely out loud once he was sure the Emperor was no longer within earshot.

…

“So, let me get this straight… Your sole job now is to follow me everywhere?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yixing replied with a curt nod.

The Prince groaned, “Oh, fucker. Are we back to that now?” He dropped into one of the chairs in the room.

The tone of the Prince’s complaint made Yixing roll his eyes instinctively, a motion he was quick to cover up; he no longer had the luxury of being himself, not with so many careful eyes on him so close to the Emperor now.

“I thought I’d managed to get you to stop talking to me like a freak.” He grabbed a ceramic cup from the table and threw it at Yixing, who caught it easily, but was forced to break his stiff stance.

Yixing sighed as he walked towards the table to replace the cup upon its surface, deigning to return to the usual casualness between the two before Yixing had been given a new uniform, “I’m supposed to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

The Prince stiffened, “And I suppose that means ensuring that I attend all my classes.” Yixing nodded. “And if I don’t…” the Prince mused, trailing off with a glance towards Yixing, both knowing what would happen. The Prince looked away indignantly and crossed his arms, “Well, that’s too bad, Xingxing. You can go tell my Father that I’ll have none of that!”

Yixing rolled his eyes and stalked up to the Prince, grabbing him by the back of his collar, “Let’s just get you to your history lesson, okay?”

The Prince groaned and slapped at Yixing’s unyielding hand, demanding that he let go. Yixing smiled to himself when he realised that it was all half-assed; the Prince was hardly putting up a real fight.

…

“Again,” Yixing muttered in half-command, holding up the hand that was wrapped around the handle of a dulled sword while he kept the other behind his back.

The Prince groaned, crossing his teenaged arms in front of him in defiance, “No, Yixing. I’m _tired_.”

Yixing hid his smirk, “Fine. You always were such a quitter. Never could follow through on commitments.” Yixing received a glare in his direction for his teasing and he laughed. “Come on, just another round and we can take a break.”

“You said that seven rounds ago, Yixing,” the Prince replied with a scowl, dropping his practice sword and sitting on the brick ground with his legs crossed.

“Well, if you didn’t suck so much, we wouldn’t have to keep going.”

The Prince scowled, “You realise you’re talking to the Crown Prince, right? You should watch your mouth.”

Yixing snorted, “Oh, so _now_ you want me to address you formally? Well, you’re just going to have to earn it from me, now, _Prince._ ”

Kris pouted childishly. “Maybe I’ll just tell Father that you’re not doing your job properly.”

Yixing rolled his eyes, “Will you stop stalling with your empty threats and just get up?”

“I don’t want to,” the Prince whined, peering up at Yixing from his position on the ground. “Why do I have to learn to do this anyway? It’s not like they’re going to send the Emperor to do battle in the army.”

Yixing sighed, “Because you’re the Crown Prince. And being first in line to the throne, you’re pretty much _always_ in danger of being attacked by someone who wants to take that title from you.”

The Prince laughed, “Like my little brother?”

“Talking about me, Brother?” Yixing tucked his wooden sword quickly into his belt as he got down on one knee and greeted the other Royal teenager in the palace. “I hope you’re training my brother well,” the younger brother said with a smile and only a hint of mockery in his voice, before leaving the two as quickly as he had joined them, laughing heartily as he walked away.

The Prince glowered at his little brother’s retreating back and picked up his sword once more as he got to his feet to face Yixing. “I swear to god, sometimes I wonder if he’s not plotting to kill his own brother.”

Yixing laughed, “He’s only trying to help you get off your lazy ass. Worked, didn’t it?” The dimpled male drew his fake weapon once more, poised to fight the Prince.

The Prince shrugged, “If he wanted the throne, he could just ask. I sure as hell don’t want it. And we both know he’d be so much better at it anyway.”

Yixing didn’t vocalize his agreement. Yes, despite the fact that the Second Brother was half a decade younger than the Crown Prince, he was so much better at all his subjects than the Prince. But Jia Heng had been born first, and the rules of the palace were absolute.

…

Yixing watched the Prince play with the golden decorations on the wedding headpiece that sat on a table in the room.

“You’ve been quiet these past couple of weeks, Yixing…”

Yixing barely made a sound to acknowledge that he’d heard. Two weeks ago, when the Emperor had announced that his eldest son was to marry the daughter of his army General, Yixing found himself at a loss as to what to do. He knew from a very early age that he would have died for the Prince, but this… Yixing didn’t know how to face the fact that his heart had fallen for the future Emperor of China. If anyone found out, he would no longer have his life, but it wasn’t this that frightened him the most. It was the possibility of never being able to see the Prince again that terrified him.

“What do you think Father would do if I refused to show up tomorrow?”

Yixing looked sternly at the Prince, “Don’t be stupid.”

The Prince laughed lightly. “You’re right,” he paused to flick at a golden chrysanthemum, “You’ll be there tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.”

…

Yixing woke up on his hard bed before dawn broke and let himself stare at the ceiling for a couple of minutes before rolling off and getting dressed. Seventeen years of living and he was pretty sure today was the worst day he will ever have to endure, to watch the Prince get married. He scolded himself for the thought; what did he expect in the first place? For the future Emperor to rule without a Queen? Impossible.

Yixing made his way from the servants’ housing chambers towards the Prince’s bedroom, greeting the guards standing at the entrance with a curt nod before taking a deep breath and pushing open the doors. “Prince?”

Yixing hardly expected a response because the Prince was almost never awake when Yixing arrived in the mornings and Yixing always had to rouse the reluctant teenager.

What he _had_ expected was for the Prince to be lying in his bed, covers pulled up to his chin. Instead, the gold embroidered blanket was folded neatly at the foot, no Prince in sight. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Yixing stepped back out and asked the guards where the Prince had gone.

“Gone? The Prince has not left the room since he turned in last night.”

“ _What?_ Well, he isn’t in here, so you better go and found out where he’s gone before the Emperor discovers that his eldest son went missing under your watch.”

The pair of guards shared a panicked glance with each other before hurrying off to find the prince, the terror of losing their heads spurring them on. Yixing stayed rooted on the spot. “Dammit, Prince, this is not the time to be playing games,” he muttered to himself, recalling the conversation from last night.

Yixing tried to ignore the happy glow he’d felt in his chest at the idea of the wedding being postponed.

“Zhang Yixing?”

Yixing froze as he recognized the voice coming from behind him. He turned around and got down to one knee, “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Looking for my brother, I’m guessing?”

Yixing swallowed and didn’t dare to look up, even when the Royal allowed him to rise again.

Silence fell for a moment before the Second Prince spoke again. “Leave us,” he said, dismissing his personal entourage so he could speak to Yixing alone.

“He’s probably at the East Gate, trying to find a way to either distract the guards or climb over the wall.”

Yixing momentarily forgot his manners and his head shot up to look at the Second prince in disbelief. “What?”

“Oh?” The Prince raised an eyebrow, “My Brother hasn’t told his most loyal servant that he plans on disappearing the day of his wedding?”

Yixing continued to stare blankly.

“Well? Why are you still standing here?”

Yixing blinked out of his reverie and bowed deeply before taking his leave once more as the Second Brother nodded to his guard. _I am going to kill him when I find him._

…

Yixing found his Prince exactly where he’d been told he’d find him, lurking behind a bush in commoner clothes and staring daggers at the guards as if that would really succeed in removing them from their posts. Yixing crept quietly behind him and cleared his throat loudly, enjoying the alarmed start it gave the Prince.

“Yixing?!” The Prince’s voice was high and squeaky. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Your brother,” Yixing answered, crossing his arms, “And do you mind telling me why he is under the impression that you’re running away from you wedding?”

“Because I am.”

Yixing groaned, “Didn’t we have this discussion last night? You’re not stupid. Now come on. I have to get you ready for the tea ceremony.” Yixing grabbed the Prince by the elbow and started to pull him back in the direction he arrived.

“No, I’m serious about this, Yixing,” the Prince argued, pulling his arm back to himself and repositioning the carrying cloth on his other shoulder. “You and I both know I’m not fit for this job. Politics of an entire country? I can’t even understand the politics within these palace walls and there’s only a fraction of the people here!”

Yixing narrowed his eyes, “So, what are you going to do, even if you managed to slip outside, huh? Become a farmer?”

The Prince shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. Anything’s better than in here.”

 “You wouldn’t last a day out there, you entitled bastard.”

Surprisingly, the Prince smiled, “Then come with me, Yixing,” he said, grabbing Yixing’s wrists. “Come away with me.”

“What? You’re crazy. If they catch us, _I’m_ the one who gets my head removed from the rest of my body, while you just get a little stern talking-to.” Yixing tried to pull his arm back to himself, only to have the Prince’s grip around his wrist tighten.

“They won’t find us. My brother, I talked to him last night.”

Yixing froze, “You what?”

The Prince smiled. “We’ve got it worked out. We all know I don’t want the throne and that he’d be a better ruler. So he’s helping me provide a distraction today.”

Yixing searched the Prince’s eyes for a sign of insanity or of the possibility that he may have ingested some form of drug, but he only found an earnest desire to be free from his obligations. He sighed heavily at the determined look on the Prince’s face and wondered whether he’d ever seen him this committed to an idea. “Alright,” he agreed, pushing down at the swelling in his chest when the Prince smiled broadly. “And just so you know, there’s an easier way out than through those guarded gates,” he added, motioning to his left with a quick twitch of his head.

The Prince’s grinned as his hand loosened from around Yixing’s wrist only so the fingers could find its way in between Yixing’s. “Lead the way then, Xingxing.”

One of the major advantages of such a large palace to maintain was the fact that _the palace was so large_. It was near impossible to cover every part of it with guards, and just as difficult to uncover all its secret passages. Yixing was actually rather surprised that the troublemaking Prince hadn’t already discovered the broken cement wall behind a large collection of flower pots in the northeast corner of the grounds.

The Prince couldn’t help but grin when Yixing stepped aside to show him the break in the wall. “How the hell haven’t more people tried to break into the palace with this inviting gaping hole in the wall?!"

Yixing shook his head even as his eyes darted back and forth around them to make sure no one had seen them. The corner they were in wasn’t often frequented even by the servants, but it wasn’t exactly closed to the public either.

Yixing hadn’t noticed how natural it had been for his fingers to be entangled with the Prince’s, and when the latter let go so that he could crawl through the space, Yixing found himself missing the warmth. _You’re here only as his protector_ , Yixing reminded himself. It did little to dissipate the aching in his chest.

“You coming or what, Xingxing?” The Prince’s voice called from the other side of the wall.

Yixing’s jaw clenched momentarily as he looked around him. This was where he had spent his entire life, and it was hard to say goodbye.

Yixing had barely peaked his head out on the other side of the wall when something solid narrowly missed his head: a feathered arrow had made itself home in the wall just to the left of his head. Instinctively, his eyes scanned his surroundings for the Prince and found him staring back at Yixing with a confused and blank look on his face. The Prince had barely opened his mouth before Yixing had to watch a second arrow find its mark in the Prince’s chest.

Yixing’s body froze as he watched, as if in slow motion, the Prince look down at the weapon and then back up at Yixing as the strength in his knees left him falling to the ground. “Xingxing?”

It was the broken voice that launched Yixing back to the present and he ran towards his Prince, eyes searching for the attacker and hand on his now unsheathed sword, but they were already gone. “I’m right here, Jia Heng,” Yixing heard himself say as he leaned the Prince’s body into his lap, his eyes staring at the feathers that were at the end of the protruding arrow: there was only one group within the palace walls that used them and they were loyal only to the Royal Family.

The Prince’s pale and bloodstained lips pulled up into a grin. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my birth name.”

“Stop talking. We need to get you the doctor,” Yixing muttered, trying to pull the Prince into a position where he could use Yixing for support.

The Prince shook his head and coughed, “I’m fine, Xingxing. Doesn’t hurt that much really…” a splatter of crimson red coloured the dirt ground as the Prince struggled to stay in an upright position, held up only by Yixing. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?”

“My name. You never call me by my name.”

Yixing gritted his teeth together, “I’ll say it a million times once we get this arrow out of you and a doctor to look at that wound.”

The Prince coughed red again and Yixing knew that he’d never be able to get the Prince to a doctor in time. He lowered himself to the ground once more in resignation and let the Prince lean his head against his shoulder.

“Li Jia Heng.”

The Prince hummed from beside him and Yixing looked down to find him with a smile on his lips. “Thank you, Yixing. For everything.”

Yixing didn’t know what to say and instead, linked his fingers through the Prince’s once more. He tried not to focus on the arrow still stuck in the Prince’s chest, now rising and falling unevenly.

“Don’t go after him, Yixing,” the Prince croaked, noticing the way Yixing’s grip had tightened at the sight of the arrow.

Yixing didn’t say anything, trying to calm himself enough so as not to crush the Prince’s fingers. “He sent them after you after he said he’d help you.”

“But he’s still my brother, Xingxing.”

“He’s not mine,” Yixing bit back, ideas already forming in his head.

“You’ll never get past the royal guard.”

“I don’t care. I still have to try.”

“No, you don’t,” the Prince insisted, with more energy than Yixing thought he still had left. “Don’t get yourself killed,” his fingers tightened around Yixing’s, “I’d hate myself if you got hurt because of me,” he added, voice barely above a whisper again. “Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”

“I –”

“ _Promise me_ , Yixing,” he pressed.

“Okay,” Yixing finally agreed, though reluctantly.

“Good,” the Prince sighed. “And then when you’re finally finished in this world, come find me. I’ll wait for you.”

Yixing nodded and couldn’t bring himself to look at his Prince, waiting stiffly until he could no longer feel the ex-Royal’s ragged breathing against his arm before he let the tears fall. 

* * *

 

# 2\. Kevin Li

“Filthy blood traitor.”

Kevin Li glowered up defiantly at his captors when he’d rebounded from the blow to the side of his head, shifting a little on his knees to keep his balance with his hands tied behind his back. The soldier that had hit him narrowed his eyes at Kevin, clearly displeased with the way the prisoner was acting. He raised an arm for another blow and Kevin braced himself with a clenched jaw but held his proud gaze.

A voice that didn’t belong to Kevin’s attacker or any of the jeering observers called out just as the hand started to come down. “What’s going on here?” Kevin had to focus to understand the Oriental language he had barely used back home.

All the soldiers stopped smirking immediately and stood alert with their arms at their side. “Nothing, General Zhang. Just taking care of the prisoner.”

Kevin gave the newly-arrived General the same indignant look he gave the other soldiers, and received an amused half-grin in response. “Leave him.”

“But sir, why is it that we’re keeping him alive in the first place?”

The general turned away from Kevin sharply and faced his soldier, speaking with a stern voice, “Because it is with the pale-faced that we have quarrel with, not our own.”

“Sir, he is worse, a blood traitor.”

Kevin ground his teeth together to keep from leaping at the soldier only a couple feet from him. He could take him easily, but it was the others who worried him.

“Don’t question my decisions, soldier. Now leave us.”

“That’s dangerous. We haven’t fully searched him yet. He might have a hidden knife.”

“Leave. Us.”

Kevin didn’t bothering hiding his smirk as the one who had hit him shot him another angry look before bowing before his general and departing with his comrades. He watched as the General sighed heavily and drew his sword.

 _Finally_ , Kevin thought to himself as he closed his eyes, waiting for the blade to connect with his flesh. Only the sound of the blade being dug into the dirt somewhere around him hit his ears. Kevin cracked an eye open to find that the general was sitting cross-legged across from him, his long black hair tied neatly at the top of his head and his sword upright in the earth beside him, still vibrating a little. It was hardly a beautiful sword, having tiny chips along its length that showed its age. “Aren’t your knees tired, soldier?” he asked Kevin, in heavily accented English. “I would be tired if I’d been kneeling all morning,” he made a gesture for Kevin to sit back on his behind instead.

Kevin purposely refused.

“Alright, whatever you like, then,” the General smiled, placing his hands back on his crossed knees, back erect in perfect posture. “Would you like something to eat?”

Kevin continued to glare. What the hell was this man playing at?

“No to that, too?” The general reverted back to Chinese, “Well, soldier, you certainly are resilient.”

“If you’re thinking of interrogating me for information, I can tell you now that you won’t break me,” Kevin muttered in English.

“Ah, he speaks!” The general clapped his hands and smiled again, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. “And I’m not going to interrogate you. I already know everything I need.”

“Then why the hell are you keeping me alive?”

“My decisions are my own. Besides, I’d have expected that you’d be grateful for your life.”

Kevin didn’t answer and turned to look away instead, noting that some of the soldiers were chancing glances in his direction, probably discussing possible answers to the same question Kevin had just asked.

“My name is Zhang Yixing, but you can call me Yixing.”

Kevin turned his head back quickly and scowled, eyebrows furrowing together. _What the hell kind of general goes and_ asks _his prisoner to call him by his name?_

“I believe that the western world uses handshakes for greetings?” the general asked as he held out his arm. Kevin looked down at the arm and then back up at his captor with a look of derision,. “Right,” the general amended, recalling Kevin’s bound limbs.

_Just kill me now before I have to endure any more of this idiot’s antics. How the hell is he their general?_

“You speak Chinese, no?” the general asked, having once again reverted back to his native tongue.

Kevin grunted in response.

Another smile spread across the enemy’s face as he got to his feet, “Well, if you feel like talking any time soon, soldier, let me know.” He pulled his weapon out of the ground and slipped it quietly back into its sheath.

 

  * KL POV
  * Low level soldier 
    * Loyalty, hardwork, resilience, “manliness”
  * Part of ‘group’ that was raided by ZYX’s army (ZYX=general)
  * Only survivor because ZYX says they want to interrogate him, also because although he’s part of the English army, he’s Chinese, and they shouldn’t spill their own race’s blood
  * Spends time in the company of the general because ZYX doesn’t want anyone else messing with the prisoner
  * Have random conversations together in the tent as they head back home 
    * Starts with KL in shackles and with no access to anything that he can kill himself with, etc
    * Later, is allowed to enjoy dinner with ZYX because they’ve developed a friendship 
      * ZYX’s second in command tells him to be careful
      * When has to step out, will always remove any sharp knives, or send someone to watch over him, because can never be too careful
    * Discovers that he’s got feelings for the enemy, so when ZYX leaves momentarily and forgets to double check, KL cuts his own throat and ZYX returns to find him in a pool of blood. Gets frustrated



* * *

 

# 3\. Wu Yi Fan

  * ZYX POV
  * Owns a café in the 20’s (prohibition) 
    * Fuck the rules, have fun now, worry later
  * Basement is a bar, need secret password to get down there
  * Café above ground is a cover to avoid detection
  * ZYX is businessman who comes to the joint to have a good time 
    * Also enjoys coming during the day to grab coffee
    * “You’re a better barista than a bartender.”
  * Ends up getting busted and WYF gets shot in the process 
    * YZYX loses him in the commotion and leaves the establishment. Looks for WYF the next day, but can’t find him. Hears two policemen discussing in an alleyway, and finds out WYF is already dead.



* * *

 

# 4\. Kris Wu

  * KW POV
  * Celebrity (singer-songwriter) in modern times 
    * Arrogant/knows he is gifted
  * Everything he does is controlled 
    * Eating is a chore because doesn’t get to enjoy the deep fried stuff (steamed veggies, etc)
    * Sleeps in the van as someone works on his hair/checks his online foot print
    * Manager wakes him up daily with the schedule
  * ZYX is also singer in industry (Lay), meet at a concert and become friends => fall in love
  * Kris gets disease (?) and can no longer sing, which means his career is basically over (early twenties) 
    * ZYX comforts him and when Kris gets used to the idea, becomes the writer of the songs Lay sings
  * Have to be careful in the beginning, but as they start falling out of the spotlight, it gets easier and end up living together
  * They continue living together over the next few years, 
    * Kris continues to write songs for ZYX to release on the side (starts getting into acting more because of his condition)
  * Has family history of heart problems and ends up having a heart attack around 30 
    * ZYX stays with him at the hospital
    * Kris can tell his body is failing (It’s fine Yixing. I’ve lived long enough.) 
      * Y: I’ll wait for you to come back to me, Kris, no matter the years.
      * Kris nods even though ZYX knows he has no idea what he means.
    * Epilogue (?): It’s the fourth time he’s had to see his lover die in front of him and it hasn’t gotten easier. Four times, he’s fallen for that beautiful face and it hurts his heart more every time. Doesn’t know why he was born with this “gift”, (or maybe it’s a curse, forcing him to watch the blunders of mankind over the years) but maybe it was so that he could meet and fall in love with every version of LJH, KL, WYF, KW. 
      * We’ll find each other. We always find each other.




	8. [Fanxing] Graffiti Artist AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: "Kris is an ad exec who owns his own company. Yixing is a “notorious” street tagger/graffiti artist known as “Lay.” Kris is leaving work late one night and catches Lay tagging his building. Recognizing his talent Kris wants it for his business, so he offers Lay two choices, either work for him on his current project, or go to jail. Although Lay hates everything Kris represents he doesn’t want to face potential jail time (as he’s been in trouble with the law too many times already) so he agrees to work for Kris. All of their long days together working on the project leads to feelings."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of three requests that were sent my way for my exoforsichuan contribution. There was actually a lot of planning for this fic that I did. It's in a notebook somewhere but uh... yeah, I'd have to dig it out again (I had transposed it all onto my computer but again, The Great Demise of Miranda happened) I really wanted to finish this because I'd actually plotted it ALL out but that corrupted drive hit me hard :|
> 
> No one dies! There's Lu Han as a child and Yixing as an asshole (I'm pretty sure this is the beginning of my love for giant turd Yixing xD)

**Yixing gets caught by Kris, gets coerced into working for him**

Kris isn’t particularly a fan of client dinners. They involve too many bad jokes he has to pretend are the funniest things he’s heard and awkward silences that he has to fill with idle chit-chat, not to mention the ridiculous size of the bill by the end of the night. Then there are the clients (like tonight’s) that believe that they stand at the top of the world and everyone else, to put it simply, is below them.

After three and a half grueling hours of sucking up and fake smiles, Kris is finally released from his sentence and he climbs into his car with a wide yawn that he hides behind a last departing wave at his company’s newest advertising client. Instead of heading back to the office though, he finds himself parked at a lot with a clear view of the bridge that passes over the local river. A little surprised at his own choice, Kris steps out of his vehicle and makes his way down the steps to the familiar paved path he used to walk with his father over a decade ago, hand automatically reaching for the opposite wrist to fiddle with his father’s watch without his notice as he walks.

Ten years is enough to change just about anything and the bottom of this bridge is no exception; the concrete at the base of the bridge that used to be a dusty and boring gray was now home to a spray-painted landscape of colours that stretched from one side of the bridge to the other. The marketing agent inside him is immediately attracted to the _____ and he takes a step back to appreciate the piece as a whole. It’s then that he notices something in the bottom right corner, hidden behind a patch of overgrown weeds. The cartoon-like drawing of a hand making an “L” with the forefinger and thumb looks out of place, with its neon colours and unpolished lines but as Kris steps forwards to look at it closer, it’s obvious that the same artist that painted the city’s skyline from the view on down by the river is the same person who drew the childish symbol.

“Maybe it’s a signature?” he wonders out loud to himself as he pulls out his phone and takes a couple steps backwards again, his waist pressed against the railing as he tries to capture the entire piece in a single shot.

…

“What do you mean you don’t know who Lay is?”

Kris glares at his assistant with annoyance; he doesn’t like being treated like he’s stupid.

“You’re serious, _you don’t know who Lay is?_ ”

“Does this look like the face of someone in the know?!” Kris bites back, making Jongdae hold his hands up defensively before he rounds his desk and opens up a web browser, typing quickly to pull up a dark themed website with various photo previews. “What’s this?” Kris asks as he nudges Jongdae to give him the mouse to navigate the site himself.

“It’s a fanpage of his.”

“A what?” Kris returns, splitting his attention between the colours on the screen and his talking assistant.

“A _fanpage_ , Kris. God, you need to get out more,” Jongdae mutters with a roll of the eyes that he hastily tries to cover up when Kris narrows his eyes at him, “Basically, the owner of this website is a fan of this guy’s work around the city.”

Kris straightens up again, giving the computer’s controls back to the owner, “Can you figure out how to contact him? I like his work.” Jongdae only returns a blank look at him. “I want to hire him,” Kris explains simply.

“You _what_?”

Kris doesn’t have time to further explain his intentions because his cell phone rings, “Just do it, okay?”

Jongdae raises an eyebrow and looks at his boss like he’s crazy, “Do you think it’s that easy to contact him? No one even knows what he looks like, for crying out loud. He just throws up this mural like overnight and then doesn’t show up for another half a year or so!”

Kris only smiles as he hits the ‘answer’ button on his phone, leaving his finger over the microphone as he walks backwards into his office, “You’re a smart guy, Jongdae. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

He’s pretty sure that when Jondgae puts up his hand to signal at him, it’s not a friendly wave.

…

Kris stares at the scene before him with his left eyebrow twitching slightly, annoyed at having been interrupted in the middle of putting the last details for a proposal due the next morning. 

“What the hell is so important you needed me to come down here?” he shoots sharply at the closest member of his night time security team.

“Found him at the east side of the building.” The guard closest to Kris holds up a half empty can of spray paint and tosses it at Kris before turning to point at a dark figure sitting in a chair with his head hung low. “I thought he looked familiar, so I looked him up,” the guard continues, reaching for a file on the table behind him and handing it to Kris, “Zhang Yixing. Twenty-one years old. Apparently, he got declined an entry level position he had interviewed for last week.”

Kris looks up from the file he’s handed to find the hooded male glaring at the speaking guard with disdain before turning sharply to narrow his eyes at Kris himself.

“Sir?”

The blond turns to face the lead security guard who gives him an expectant look, waiting for orders. “Oh, uh. That’ll be all. I’ll call you if I need anything else,” he mutters, not looking up as he starts to skim through Zhang Yixing’s resume. He waits until he’s left alone with the graffitist to grab a chair for himself, rolling it in front of the scowling male before him. “So. Got an explanation?” The delinquent rolls his eyes at Kris before shifting slightly in his seat in a bored manner. “I thought you wanted a job here,” Kris tries again, only to have the sound of the delinquent kissing his teeth as a response.

“I did. Until I realized how stupid this place it,” Zhang Yixing retorts, clearly displeased with how much like an interrogation the situation was becoming.

Instead of trying to fight with him, Kris looks down at the pages in front of him again, focusing his attention on the human resource representative’s evaluation. “May have problems with authority,” he quotes out loud from the suggestions listed at the bottom of the page before looking up and chuckling at the accuracy, “Oh really, you don’t say…”

Zhang Yixing only scowls back and pulls his hood closer, “Fuck off, can I go home yet?”

Kris pretends to give the idea some thought before grinning, “How about we go take a look at that piece of yours, hmm?” He drops the file lightly on the table where the guard had retrieved it from and gets up from his chair, pushing it back into place in front of the many computer screens in the room.

“Are you serious? _Now_?”

Kris turns to find reluctant disbelief written all over the other’s face, “Yes, now. Why, you got somewhere else to be? A police station, maybe?” he mocks, enjoying the way the younger grumbles his displeasure but, lacking a suitable retort, ends up getting in annoyance, straightening his sweater as he pushes past Kris and leads the way with an irritated slouch, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweater.

…

Kris steps up to the slanted wall and swiped a finger across the piece, only realizing that the paint hasn’t fully dried when he notices the slight flinch that Yixing makes. “It’s nice,” he comments in an effort to be friendly, wiping his soiled finger on his pant leg.

A derisive snort comes from the artist, “Well, it _was_. Until you went and fucked it up.”

Purposely ignoring the jab, Kris continues to look over the piece until his attention is caught by the corner where a splatter of purple paint is sprayed haphazardly in no particular direction. He sends Zhang Yixing a questioning look and the latter only shifts on the spot, looking bored with the situation as he stares at his feet. Kris crouches down in front of the spot and squints at the mess, spotting a gap in the haphazard disarray of purple lines that looks vaguely familiar.

“Can I leave yet?” Yixing grumbles impatiently, as he steps in front of Kris so that the latter is staring at a pair of washed out blue jeans instead of the side of his building.

Kris rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet once more, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at the hooded male who was scowling with his arms crossed. “Why are you in such a rush to leave?” he grins as he mirrors Yixing’s crossed arms, “Trying to distract me?” he asks as he shifts his weight to the side slightly to peer around his guest, who moved almost instantly to block Kris’ view again.

“No,” he started irritably, “I just want to go home.”

“Ah, I see,” Kris grinned to himself knowingly as he stepped back and started towards the front doors to the building again, the sound of Yixing’s footsteps following behind him. “And I suppose that that has nothing to with the fact that the signature under that mess of purple belongs to Lay?”

Kris heard Yixing’s footsteps stop before the young vandal spoke up, “How does some suit like you know who Lay is?”

Kris turned around slowly to face Yixing, who, for the first time that whole night, was looking straight back at the tall blond. “The more important question is,” Kris returned without answering the question, “Am I right?” He watched a flicker of hesitation in Yixing’s gaze as the younger shifted a little in his seat.

“If I said yes,” Yixing started a little arrogantly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the zipper on his sweater to the top and fixing the hood, “Are you going to call the cops on me?” he asked as he shoved his fist back into his sweater, “Because that’ll be new, I’ve never gotten in trouble with the law before,” he finished a little sarcastically though Kris could tell that despite the way that he was acting, the police station was certainly _not_ somewhere he wanted to ended up tonight.

“Is that a yes?” Kris pushed, determined to get an affirmative response from the stubborn boy who only continued scowling up at him.

“ _No_ , I said _if_. You really need to work on your listening skills, Mr. Wu.”

Kris narrowed his eyes at Yixing, trying to decide whether the kid was just yanking his chain or if he really was standing in front of the same graffiti artist that had his own following online. Tired of playing games, he let out a sigh, “You wanted a job, right?”

“What?”

“I want to hire Lay,” Kris started to explain plainly, “I like what he does and I want him to work for me.”

“I told you, I don’t want to work for your stupid company any more.”

Kris smirks, “You? I said nothing about _you_ working for me. I was talking about _Lay._ Unless…”

Yixing narrowed his eyes for a beat, “We’re done here,” he muttered with a hint of annoyance before spinning around and walking away soundlessly, head ducked and hands still in his pockets.

“I assume you’re declining my offer and that I can go ahead and report your shenanigans tonight?” The shorter male stopped in his tracks, spreading the grin across Kris’ face, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?”

There was another moment of hesitation before the hooded figure raised his hand to behind his head, an obvious middle finger displayed under the light of the lamp post his only response to Kris’ question. Kris could only laugh as he watched the retreating figure for a minute before turning back towards the building’s entrance.

…

Kris pulled into work the next morning to find the purple blob had been properly replaced by the familiar childish signature, the streak across the middle of the mural made by his finger last night touched up to look part of the picture again. Hiding an impressed grin under his greeting smile towards the receptionist, he couldn’t help muttering to himself a comment about “perfectionist artists” while deciding that he would try starting afresh with the graffitist when he saw him in the office.

But by the time the hour hand of the clock indicated noon, his newest hire still hadn’t shown up. Trying to calm himself by saying it was simply because of “these damn artists and their stupid lack of professionalism”, he pulled the file from last night from the mess in his desk drawer and dialed the number provided on the application. And then dialed again when no one picked up. And then fifty more times, each time getting more and more annoyed. _That’s what you get for being lenient last night, Kris. I can’t believe you actually thought he would work for you just like that, you idiot!_ He berated himself as he stabbed at the buttons on his office phone again.

“For the love of god, stop calling me.”

Kris ground his teeth at the groggy response that came when the other end of the line finally got picked up. “Did you _just_ wake up?” he snapped back, as he began pacing his office, “You were supposed to be here hours ago. I thought we had a deal.” The thump that sounded suspiciously like the time Kris woke up reaching for his phone and falling off his bed rang in his ear followed by swearing. 

“Sorry, Mr. Wu,” Yixing apologized exaggeratedly, tone thick with sarcasm, “I had to recover from dealing with an asshole last night. And I don’t work for you.”

Kris heard himself growl low at the condescending tone, “Just get over here, _now._ ”

“You’ve got great bedside manner, you know?” Yixing continued lazily through a yawn that made Kris’s fist whiten at the knuckles.

“Get. Here.” He growled again.

“ _Make me_ ,” came the childish response that made Kris groan and fall into his chair with exasperation.

“I don’t have time for you acting like a hormonal teenage girl. Just get over here before I have to come and get you myself.”

There was a moment of silence over the phone before Kris heard the definite click of the end of the call. Closing his eyes with a long sigh, he dropped his face into his palms, leaning his elbows on his desk and wondering to himself why he even bothered. He let out another determined breath before sitting up straight in his chair and turning his focus back to his job.

*

The coffee he’d grabbed after lunch fell from his hand to the sidewalk with a _splat_ as Kris took in the scene before him. “H…how…?!” he managed to stutter breathlessly as he started towards his car.

“I think it looks better this way, don’t you? The white was so boring anyway.”

Kris spun around to find Yixing smirking at him from under his hood as he sat on the curb surrounded by cannisters of spray paint that matched the stripes of neon colours that covered his vehicle.

“Wh- you! This…?! Wh-?!”

Yixing raised an eyebrow in mock confusion, “Sorry, what? You’re going to run that by me again, Mr. Wu, I don’t speak baby-talk.”

Kris glared at the grinning boy as the latter flicked at one of the canisters surrounding him, a hollow tin sound ringing into the afternoon air, “What the hell, Zhang Yixing?!”

Yixing only shrugged from his seat, “Well you told me to get over here and get to work,” he explained as he got to his feet, brushing the legs of his jeans and picking up one of the empty cannisters and spinning it in his palm with his eyebrows raised as he waited for Kris to find control over his tongue again. Smirking again as Kris opened and closed his mouth wordlessly like a fish out of water, Yixing tossed the empty can in his hand at Kris who snapped out of his reverie just in time to catch it before it hit him square on the nose.

“See ya ‘round, Mr. Wu,” Yixing snickered as he grabbed his backpack from the ground and shouldered it as he turned around with a parting wave.

*

Kris spent the entirety of the previous night trying to wash the paint off his car and by the time the sun started to rise again, he was forced to admit that no amount of store bought products was going to get his beloved vehicle back to normal. Instead, he headed back into his office in rage, ransacking his desk until he found the file on Zhang Yixing once more, finger sliding down the page until it reached the line that asked for the applicant’s home address.

*

“Zhang Yixing!” The tall CEO knocked angrily at the door of the rooftop apartment, yesterday’s shirt half unbuttoned with its sleeves rolled up past the elbows. “Get your ass out here!”

Annoyed and tired from a lack of sleep in the past twenty-four hours, Kris paced around the rooftop apartment, testing every window he found until one that pulled open easily. Swearing to himself that he was going to make Yixing regret ruining his car, he searched the frame for a release on the bug screen before simply pulling it out angrily. Making no effort to be quiet, he climbed into the apartment and started pulling open doors until he found the bedroom. Stomping towards the bed, he leaned over and in a swift movement, pulled the blankets off and threw them to the ground. “Get up, Zhang Yixing,” he bit out in annoyance.

The figure in the bed shivered before curling into a ball with a whine, arm reaching out to search for his linens.

“Get _up_!”

“Mmm just five more minutes,” Yixing muttered groggily as he pulled his pillow over his head and Kris folded his armed impatiently as he waited for the other male to properly wake up. It was another five seconds before Yixing sat up abruptly in his bed, pillow falling to the floor as his eyes widened in shock. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”

“Get dressed,” Kris began with a serious tone as he pulled the topless boy from his bed and to his feet aggressively. “You’re going to work off that stunt you pulled yesterday.”

Yixing pulled his arm back to himself, “This is breaking and entering, you know,” he stated as-a-matter-of-fact with a scowl before swallowing hard at the dangerous look in Kris’ eyes.

“Yeah? Do you want to take it up with the police?” Kris started, voice hard and he stepped in front of Yixing and looked down at him, “While we’re there, I have a few things to report myself.”

“I’m pretty sure that what you’re doing is worse than me spraying some paint,” Yixing countered easily.

“And I’m pretty sure,” Kris returned just as easily without missing a beat, “that my overpaid lawyers will help a judge see things differently. What about yours?”

The muscle in Yixing’s jaw clenched before he snorted and rolled his eyes as he stepped back, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Yixing sighed heavily before turning around and grabbing jeans off the back of a chair. “Alright let’s go.”

“Wait,” Kris started, eyebrow raised in alarm, “That’s it?”

Yixing jumped into his pants before giving Kris a bored look, “What’s it?”

Kris stood in the middle of the room in bewilderment as he stared blankly. “You’re… just… agreeing with me now?”

Yixing sighed as he pulled on a sweater, “I have no interest in stupid lawyer fights, so if you don’t mind, I don’t like strangers in my bedroom.” he held his bedroom door open as he waited for Kris to move. “Can we go now?”

Confused, the fire that Kris felt from spending hours trying to clean his car unsuccessfully dissipated with a fizzle, “What?”

“Can. We. Go. Now.” Yixing emphasized as though speaking to a child, rolling his eyes when Kris continued to look perplexed. “This game got boring. Now please. Let’s go before I change my mind.” Kris only continued to stare at the abrupt change in attitude until Yixing had to groan, “Let me put it this way, Mr. Wu. Get out of my bedroom before I find something else of yours to paint like a rainbow.”

Kris gave Yixing another quizzical look before stepping through the bedroom door frame, pausing momentarily to eye Yixing suspiciously again.

“Look, you want me to work for you, fine. Just don’t you come to my apartment again,” Yixing muttered, slamming the front door closed loudly. “Now, are we going or what?” he grumbled before slipping into the stairway without waiting for Kris.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” Kris muttered to himself before following after Yixing.

*

“That’s it. I’m done. If you make me spend another minute with that brat, I’m quitting.”

Kris looked up from his desk to find one of his marketing analysts looking flustered, “What?”

“That kid you set up with me this morning. I don’t know why you hired him because he’s useless. Doesn’t listen to a thing I say. I’m sorry, sir, but if you have to keep him, I have to leave.”

Kris let out a sigh and massaged a temple in exasperation. “It’s okay, Zitao, you get back to whatever you were doing. I’ll talk to him.”

The analyst nodded before leaving Kris’ office, muttering what Kris was sure was a monologue about the injustice of working hard to end up having to deal with bratty so-called artists that had no talent and only thought of themselves.

With a resigned sigh, Kris got up from his desk and started towards the meeting room, knocking on the door once to announce his presence to the male hunched over a pile of paper with a pen in his hand.

“It’s because his ideas suck,” Yixing muttered without looking up.

Kris raised an eyebrow as he sat down in the chair on the other side of the large table. “What?”

“You came in here to ask me why I’m being difficult, right? It’s because there’s no originality in what that idiot is asking me to do. It’s boring. I’m not designing something that someone has already done out there.” Yixing hardly looked up as he continued to doodle away at something on his page.

“Oh?” Kris returned, tired of the mood swings and arrogance, “And what would _you_ do for this project then?”

Yixing retracted his pen with a click and picked up his paper and spun it towards Kris, “It’s not complete, but just…,” he explained in the quietest tone that Kris had heard him use since meeting him. “S’all I have for now, but yeah… uhm… yeah…” he trailed as he grabbed an unused sheet from the pile and continued to doodle.

An eyebrow raised into Kris’ forehead as he contemplated whether he was imagining the slight pink tinge that coloured Yixing’s cheeks as he pulled his hood over his head again. Clearing his throat as a reminder to himself of why he was in the meeting room in the first place, he sat up straight in his seat and studied the careful lines, pleasantly surprised at how much effort Yixing seemed to have put in in the last few hours. “It’s, uh, it’s good, actually. _Really_ good.”

A soft affirmative hum came from under the hood before Yixing hide further under his hood, hunching further over his page, eliciting a small smile from Kris before he excused himself to grab a coffee.

…

 

_(Yixing turns to glare up at Kris and pulls his hood around him tighter. Kris raises eyebrow suspiciously and asks him if he’s cold? “No.” “Then what’s with the hood? It’s rude, you know.” Kris goes to pull it off and Yixing lets out a yelp but can’t react fast enough and Kris starts to laugh because there’s a giant streak of purple across his blond hair and Yixing pulls his hood back on gruffly. “I should sue your security guards for abusing an innocent civilian by spraying them with paint.” “Oh, that’s logically. Sure, The cops are probably still downstairs, why don’t we go report them?” Yixing shoots him another glare before starting for the exit. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Lay.”)_

 

**Kris asks Yixing about the piece under the bridge**

Kris learns that Yixing likes to work alone usually. Doesn’t like listening to the other employees but will listen to what Kris says most times anyway, even if he won’t admit to it. Fanxing have to go to client dinner and even though Yixing refuses, Kris has learned that most times, Yixing will agree to do something, even if he whines about it to Kris. “So… it’s a nice night out…” Kris comments when Yixing climbs into the passenger seat, pulling his hat down over his eyes. “Your small talk skills suck, just so you know.” Kris lets out a sigh and just drives the short distance, Yixing pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them as he stares out the window in the traffic. Sometimes he fiddles with the stitching on the leather, spacing out as they sit in traffic and Kris thinks Yixing should be like this more often because he’s so much less annoying and bratty. Yixing turns around abruptly and looks at Kris skeptically and Kris has to clear his throat and turn his attention back to the road.

After the dinner, Kris is supposed to drive Yixing back home (who’s almost falling asleep in his seat). “What are we doing here? This isn’t my apartment.” “How observant of you,” Kris mocks before getting out of his seat and closing his door. Yixing stares at him through the window and refuses to get out so Kris has to wander over to Yixing’s side and open the door (which Yixing locks just in time, but Kris has the keys and they have a momentary battle over the door lock). Kris just climbs in through the back seat, “Just give me like fifteen minutes. I want to ask you something.” “What, here? God, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say this is a pretty good place to dump a body.” Kris scowls and just pulls Yixing out finally, dragging him to the painting under the bridge. “Can I ask you why you did this one?” Yixing shrugs, “Uh, because it was a nice plot of blank space?” “Your fansite. It describes the reasoning behind all of your works except this one. This one isn’t even ON the page.” “What’s your point?” “I just want to know why it’s not on the page. Why’s this one special?” Yixing rolls his eyes, “There’s nothing ‘special’ about this piece. How do you figure that fansite you found knows anything about my work anyway?” “I don’t. But it makes sense after knowing you for a while.” “You’re thinking too hard. I do all this – waves at the painting – for FUN. I know what site you’re talking about and I can assure you, they’ve got no affiliation to me.” “They say they know you.” Yixing rolls his eyes, “Right. Kris, the only person who knows the identity of Lay is you.” Yixing takes his hat off to ruffle his hair and then starts to fiddle with his hair, eyes rolled up to focus on the strand of hair he’s picking paint from. Kris notices it’s the first time Yixing is actually calling him by name and not just Mr. Wu. Yixing doesn’t think it’s as big a deal as Kris does and just shrugs, “You’re alright, I guess.” Kris joins Yixing on the ground and asks why Yixing doesn’t just go get his hair fixed up properly, “I’m sure they have some kind of miracle product that clean that right out. Or, if not, they can always just cut the painted parts right out.” Yixing wrinkles his nostrils, “I’m not bothered by it, so why are you?” Kris’ turn to shrug, “It was just a suggestion since you’re always picking at it anyway.” Yixing drops his hands and shakes his hair loose, “You’re just worried about me ruining your company image aren’t you?” Kris stutters because of Yixing’s serious tone, “What? No of course not. Like I said, it was just a suggestion.” Yixings holds a straight face for a while, looking offended as he throws his hat back on with a smirk, “Loosen up, Mr. Wu. You’re going to get wrinkles.” Yixing gets to his feet and cleans himself off as Kris fumbles to find a retort. “Well, thanks for dinner tonight. I’ll walk myself home. I’ll see you Monday.”

 

**Kris meeting Luhan**

Kris has to admit that he probably has a problem with working too much. He can’t remember the last Saturday that he hasn’t been at the office at seven in the morning, yawning as he waits for his morning coffee to brew. He is always the only person in on Saturdays, so he’s taken by surprise when he finds that the office doors are unlocked by the time he gets there. He is about to make a note to find out who was last out of the office the previous night when he hears a clatter from the kitchen. Curiosity peaked, the CEO moves forward, eyebrows furrowed together slightly anxiously, a little upset that he would have to deal with someone breaking onto his property so early on a weekend.

Kris lets out an audible sigh that makes Yixing spin around abruptly on the spot in surprise. “Jesus! Why are you sneaking up on me like that?!”

Kris rolls his eyes as a reply, stepping around Yixing to reach for the stacks of paper cups next to the shelf of different coffees. “I didn’t expect having to fight over the coffee machine first thing in the morning on a Saturday,” he starts, picking a house blend and tossing the prepackaged cup next to the machine as he waits for Yixing’s drink to finish brewing. “What are you doing here, anyway? Working overtime to try to impress your boss?” he continues jokingly, arms crossing as he leans back on the countertop.

“No,” Yixing gives Kris one of his signature scowls accompanied with a roll of the eyes as the machine sputters the last of his drink, “Coffee is expensive. Why pay when I can get it for free here?”

Kris’ expression mirrors the scowl on Yixing’s face as he nudges his employee a little roughly to move, popping his own package into the machine. “You know, normal people usually wait until _after_ their probation period is over before they start taking advantage of office perks.”

Yixing only shrugs with nonchalance as he grabs a stir stick, “I’m not normal.”

It’s Kris turn to roll his eyes, “ _Clearly_.”

The artist laughs before throwing his stir stick into the garbage and grabbing a lid, “Thanks for the free coffee. Be seein’ you, Mr. Wu,” he greets lazily as he turns and leaves towards the entrance. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal a ream of paper too.”

Kris groans as he grabs his finished drink, reminding himself that he’s keeping the kid around because he does good work, when he actually worked, anyway. He stares at the steaming cup in his hand for a beat before setting it back down on the counter with a heavy sigh; it’s starting to get annoying how Kris can’t focus on his work with that child of an artist always insisting on being a brat. He decides that maybe a quick jog around the block will ease his irritation at his newest hire so he can properly focus on his projects.

*

Kris bends over for a moment to catch his breath on the side of the path that runs through the park near his apartment, checking his watch as he places two fingers on his neck to check his pulse. Somewhere after 23 counts, Kris gets distracted by a head of blond hair stained by obnoxious purple. “Yixing?” He asks out loud to no one in particular as he takes in the unrecognizable figure beside the mouthy artist.

Kris goes out for a morning jog and because of road work, Kris has to take a detour around to a park that’s out of the way where he thinks he sees a familiar face (Yixing). He stops in his jog to take a closer look just as Yixing looks up and their eyes meet and Kris senses a flash of panic across the artist’s features and it only goes to peak his interest more when Yixing averts his gaze super quickly, his jaw clenching visibly. Kris jogs over, still trying to catch his breath as he takes a quick look between Yixing and the guy he’s with (describe childish look of Luhan, with his wide eyes and bubble gum hair) and raises an eyebrow. Luhan’s actually the first one to say anything, looking up from the ground, chalk in hand. “Hi!” Luhan notices either the way Kris is staring at how Yixing seems to be avoiding him by turning around. “Do you know Yixing-ge?” “Ah, yeah. We work together actually.” “Oh really?” “Yeah, he-” “I work IT for Kris’ advertising company. Remember I told you I got a job two weeks ago?” “Oh! Yeah! So you’re Mr. Bossman, then?” Luhan gets up to shake Kris’ hand (who apologizes for being all sweaty).  “Why don’t you take a seat? Catch your breath?” Kris is too confused to object and it takes a jab in the elbow from Yixing to realize what Yixing just said. Kris can’t decide if he wants to burst Yixing’s bubble or just to play along to figure out what Yixing’s playing at. He checks his watch and decides that maybe he’ll just work a little later tonight. “Didn’t you say you had work to do today?” Yixing asks, clearly trying to hint for Kris to get up and leave, but Kris holds his ground, staring straight back at Yixing, “Nope, I’m free all day.” He’s not, but Luhan doesn’t know that.  Yixing looks like he wants to kill Kris but Kris just shrugs and directs his attention to Luhan instead, “D’you draw this? It’s pretty good.” Luhan seems to light up, “Really? Thanks! But…” saddens “It’s nothing compared to Lay.” Kris raises an eyebrow and turns to Yixing, “Lay?” “Yeah, you’ve heard of him right? His work is great!” Luhan drops his chalk and cleans his hand on his jeans before pulling out his phone to show Kris all the pictures he’s saved on his phone of Lay’s work and kris acts impressed even though he’s already seen all of them.

*

“So…” Kris starts as he and Yixing wave back at Luhan before the middle-schooler turns and skips away. “My laptop is acting all glitchy, care to take a look at it, Mr. IT guy?” Yixing just groans and turns to start walking home. “Don’t you have work to do or something? Kissing up to some clients or whatever? Anything that isn’t _here_?” Kris probably has some things he should probably get a start on before Monday rolled around again, but he just shrugs, “It’s the weekend. And I’ve got all day so start talking unless you want me to just follow you around everywhere for the next 24 hours,” he adds when he notices Yixing trying to walk faster. Yixing stops in his tracks to glare up at Kris who only grins back at him until the shorter one has to roll his eyes in defeat.

Saturday mornings for Yixing are always reserved for Luhan. Yixing first met him when he hasn’t been feeling his best, and Luhan had been the one to cheer him up. His dad had tried to call him and he hadn’t answered but instead had gone to the bridge where he’d painted the mural, throwing pepples into the river. Luhan had been the one to approach him, simply sitting down beside him, unshouldering his backpack and pulling candies from within to offer to Yixing. “Only if you have cola flavoured ones” Yixing had answered ungratefully. “Yeah! Give me a sec!” Luhan had to put down his sketchbook to dig, page still open to where he had sketched Yixing sitting on the grass with the mural in the background. It was a decent replication (not as good as mine of course) and he picks up the book to flip through it without asking, his attitude towards his unwelcome guest improving as he took in the boy’s talent. “These aren’t bad.” “Oh, thanks,” Luhan replies shyly as he pulls out the cola candy Yixing had demanded, “Nothing compared to that though. He’s a genius.” he gestures behind them at Lay’s mural and Yixing snorts. “Naw, I think yours is better than Lay’s.” “Oh, you know him? Do you draw too?” Yixing only shrugs as he tosses more pebbles into the river. “So, why are you sad?” Luhan asks instead, trying to fill the silence. “I’m not sad,” Yixing retorts defensively.  Luhan clearly doesn’t believe him, getting to his feet and shouldering his bag before reaching for Yixing’s arm and trying to pull him to his feet as well. Yixing resists and Luhan just crosses his arms and pouts, calling Yixing a grandpa. Yixing glares at him and Luhan just sticks out his tongue. “Tch.” “Come on! You like art, right? I know something we can do that’ll cheer you up!” Luhan finally manages to drag Yixing to the park and sits him down and shoves a piece of chalk in his hand as he explains what he does here. They’ve been meeting here every week ever since. Yixing explains that he’s been pretending that he can’t really art so it wouldn’t make sense if Kris had hired him for that and IT was the first thing that had popped into his head. “What if he asks you for computer related help?” “Tch, he’s a teenager. He’s already got it all figured out.”

**Hate site pops up**

Kris walks into the office and notices everyone acting weird so he walks up to

**Meeting at park for the second time**

**Kris suggests that Yixing work for him full time**

**Yixing accepting and saying he will stop the street art too (for father)**

**Yixing visits family**

**Kris’ client wants to meet the artist but Yixing acts foul and ditches**

**Yixing doesn’t show up to play with Luhan that weekend or to work after**

**Yixing visits family a second time**

**Yixing finally shows up to work, explains family**


	9. [Fanxing, Xiuhan] Halloween Demons AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt/Request: "Once Halloween starts approaching, the barrier between the world of the demons and the world of the humans gets thinner and thinner. Yifan, on his mission to prove that he's just as demonic as all his other classmates, slips through the barrier on Halloween, picking a target that looks so wonderfully innocent and ready to be led astray. He learns too late to never judge a book by its cover, because once he has set his sights on Yixing, he gets much more than he bargained for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is the beginning of the WIPs from when I re-entered the fanxing ficdom after a really long hiatus under the name 'cagedchaos' rather than leen_go. In case anyone was wondering, the name change was because I felt I was just in a very different place in my life and my writing style reflected that)  
> This was one of the 'prompts' for a halloween/xmas fanxing fic exchange and I really loved the concept, especially how I'd somehow morphed it into something that was not as cheerful as the request had asked lmao (she wanted Kris being lame and Yixing being cute and well... me and characters being cute don't really mix xD) There's a lot of stuff that's not actually written in here, and it's just really convoluted in my head eep >.<  
> In the end, I just couldn't figure out how to make everything work together or what style to write it in, or how I wanted to story to unfold so here it is in the abandoned pile =( Beware, the work is ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE (which describes the problems I had with this fic).

Luhan as mage, xiumin as Yifan’s demon father??? Xiumin was exiled by his family for his “sin”; he was a prince so it was decreed he may keep his life, but could no longer stay. Lu Han is direct descendent of Yifan’s mother. Family of powerful mages who cast spell to keep xiumin concealed through each generation. Xiumin firmly believes that the soul of his original love is in Lu Han and they are currently “an item”. 

Yixing was adopted into Lu Han’s family at 9. Nervous or scared, he finds his way to the attic and discovers the journals kept by Xiumin’s lover from over a hundred years ago. He has always wondered if they were just by a fiction writer because it’s not possible for any of these words be  _ real _ . 

Xiumin gets worried about finally being found out for hiding out in this human world that he loves so much. Can smell Yifan but not vice versa because of the spells. Up close, Xiumin can tell that Yifan smells young and he can smell the distinct smell of his first love on Yifan. At first, he warns Lu Han about Yifan because he can smell the scent of demon all over Yixing (mother’s smell too subtle and isn’t captured 2nd hand) but when he finally meets Yifan, he gets all choked up because he always assumed the child was killed when his love had been taken from him. 

  
  


“You’re  _ sure _ ?” Minseok asked, the sound of his pacing feet echoing against the hardwood flooring in Lu Han’s bedroom. 

“For the fiftieth time, Seok, yes,” Lu Han replied, rubbing his temples with his forefingers, elbows on his desk. “Are you questioning my abilities?” He spun around in his swivel chair with a long sigh, arms coming up to fold across his chest.

Minseok stopped pacing to turn towards Lu Han with an apologetic look, “You know what’s not what I mean, Lu Han.” He said, not the apology Lu Han was looking for, but sufficient enough. “I just can’t risk being found, you understand that, right?” He took a step towards Lu Han and crouched so that he was at eye level with his boyfriend. 

Lu Han sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “Just quit worrying so much, okay? I promise we’ll find whoever or whatever you think is after you, but you panicking is  _ not _ going to help the situation.”

Minseok pressed his eyes closed and took a deep breath, “You’re right,” he acknowledged, “I’m sorry, Lu, I just-,” he started, only to be interrupted by his boyfriend placing his hands on both sides of Minseok’s face and staring straight into his eyes. 

“I promise it won’t come to that. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“As for the human,” the King roared, ignoring his son’s silent pleas for mercy, “She knows of our existence and we cannot afford the exposure. She will be brought here as part of The Harvest.” 

A whine slipped through his lips as he fell to his knees, “Please, Father, not the Harvest. Do what you may with me by she is with child,  _ your grandchild _ .”

The King stood up from his throne, wings spread wide, an intimidating sight to all under his rule, including his own son. “You are in no position to beg for mercy!” he thundered, booming voice echoing off the stone walls of the palace. Son flinched before father and he stepped one leg back, averting his gaze and trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall. 

~*~

“That was…”

Wu Yifan looked up at his teacher expectantly, trying not to show his disappointment when only a crooked smile was offered for his efforts.

“That was a complete  _ failure _ ,” a classmate piped up from the back of the classroom, his mockery joined by laughter from the others that tickled at Yifan’s temper. 

Yifan snapped around to shoot a glare at Chanyeol who snickered, admiring his claws as he basked in the support of his peers. Yifan could feel the heat rising, a combination of anger and embarrassment that he suppressed. It had been years since he’d shared a classroom with Chanyeol, and more years still since the latter had made it his mission to make Yifan’s life a miserable hell. 

“That was a  _ good effort, _ ” their teacher corrected over the boisterous students, though Yifan knew it was only due to professionalism. 

Yifan had always been smaller and weaker than the other children, a ‘runt’ as Chanyeol had so “endearingly” named him. His mother the daughter of a king and his father a human, Yifan was born an aberration, a product of laws broken, and Yifan had never felt part of the pack. It was a secret he’d be burdened to keep since birth, and the fear of death upon discovery had made him tolerating of Chanyeol’s taunting. Contact with Humans was forbidden save for on Halloween, and only permitted to those partaking in The Harvest, a yearly reaping of humans that would keep the demon pack alive another year. 

“Alright, settle down, already!” the teacher hollers over the commotion, pincers snapping for attention. “Now, remember,” he lectured when silence fell once more, “I know you’re all eager to get a taste of the Human world, but it is as dangerous as it is exciting. Do NOT try to cross The Veil without a proper license, you will not be allowed passage.”

Another round of loud chatter started as the students grumbled their disagreements with this particular law. It was difficult to attain a harvesting license and  _ impossible _ for demons not yet of age. 

The teacher hardly even bothered to request for silence; licensing laws had always been a disgruntling topic and just as it was impossible for Yifan to be allowed through The Veil on Halloween, it was just as impossible to calm this class on this particular topic. 

Taking advantage of the commotion, Yifan snuck out shortly after the teacher’s departure, spreading wings and taking flight, heading straight for The Pinnacle with his plan clear in his mind. He was already at the crater, hoping stones to its center where The Pinnacle stood with The Veil at its peak when he felt  familiar claws closing on his shoulder, a force hauling him off course and then launching him upwards. 

“Where the hell do you think  _ you’re _ going, runt?” Chanyeol’s rough voice demands as Yifan struggles to find ‘up’. “You can’t  _ really _ be stupid enough to think you can get through The Veil right now; Halloween’s still a few days away. And even then, they’d never issue a license to a  _ runt. _ ”

Yifan managed to find his balance in time to avoid collision with the side of The Pinnacle, but only barely. He grappled along the side, loose rocks coming away under his claws as he searched for purchase. He looked up at the arch of The Veil, nothing more than a metal frame and looking as it does every other day of the year that wasn’t Halloween, bare with a clock hanging above it, ticking down the seconds to Halloween when it would be open the Human world for twenty four hours. He turned his attention back to Chanyeol, fangs baring with a low growl when he found the latter perched on a boulder fifty meters away with a haughty grin. 

“I’d like to see you try though,” Chanyeol chirped, taking off and hovering above The Veil and casting a shadow over Yifan who was still clinging to the side of The Pinnacle. “You’d look exceptionally stupid.”

Yifan let out another growl before pushing off, coming up to face Chanyeol. He refused to admit to the other that he’d been found out, that he’d intended to come to The Veil days early in hopes that the weakening wall would allow his passage, even though the failure of millions before him should have dashed them early. His teeth ground together as he continued to glare at Chanyeol’s amused expression. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to try?” he asked, tone taunting.

Yifan did nothing but flap his wings to keep him level in place, swallowing hard as he tried to gauge what Chanyeol would do next..

Chanyeol’s face distorted into disgust (?) and he dove towards Yifan, managing to dig his claws into the smaller’s shoulder once more. “I  _ said _ , what are you waiting for?!” he roared, sending Yifan barrelling towards The Veil at a dangerous speed. 

As Yifan hurtled through the air, he cursed his own cowardice as he opened his wings to catch wind too late; he was going to collide with rock and it was going to hurt. He closed his eyes, his entire body tensing in anticipation of impact against the Pinnacle.

~*~

“Do you… Do you hear that?” Yixing interrupted Lu Han in mid conversation, stopping dead in his tracks as he strained to recapture…  _ whatever _ that sound was. A flap of wings? And angry roar?

“What?” Lu Han returned, eyes narrowing when he turned around to find Yixing stopped in the middle of the street. “What are you doing?! You’re going to get yourself run over!” He stormed towards Yixing, pulling him along until they were both safe on the sidewalk.

Yixing ignored the concerned look on his best friend’s face, “I think someone’s fighting,” he muttered out loud, eyebrows stitching together in concentration. 

Lu Han groaned, probably especially loud for dramatic effect. “This again? If I had a dollar for every time you thought you heard something non-existent, I’d be a millionaire.” Yixing punched him, scowling at the other’s continued disbelief. “What?! It’s not my fault your head’s in the clouds all the time.” 

Yixing scowled and turned to start walking again, ignoring his best friend’s playful laughter catching up to him. He didn’t particularly enjoy being called absent-minded, but he couldn’t argue with it either. He’d always been ____, a believer of the impossible and always trying to find ways to prove them possible. But this time, it felt … different. “No, seriously, something’s happening,” he insisted, trying to put a finger on it, like a word on the tip of his tongue. He looked up at the sky, like it would help him to figure out what was eluding him at the moment.

Lu Han rolled his eyes again, picking up pace to fall into step beside Yixing. “Well, when you figure it out, be sure to share it with the rest of us.”

Yixing shrugged; he probably wouldn’t share even if he  _ did _ find something, and given his history, it was unlikely anyway. He remained quiet as Lu Han started on a one of his stories that required little attention from Yixing, only a hum that told Lu Han he was listening from time to time, even though the attention of the younger is fixed on the forest behind them. 

A familiar melody rings out between the pair and Lu Han digs into his pocket to fish out his phone, a smile gracing his lips before he answers the call. “Hey, Minnie,” he greeted in that sickening tone that Yixing knows is reserved only for Lu Han’s boyfriend, “Whoa, hey, slow down,” he frowned a few seconds later, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Yixing can hear Minseok’s distress, even though he can’t decipher the words. It’s another moment before Lu Han lets out a sigh, “Okay, calm down okay? I’ll be right there,” he says into the mouthpiece and then mouthing a silent apology to Yixing before taking off in the opposite direction. 

Yixing makes sure to see Lu Han disappear around a bend before he doubles back where he came.

As he stood at the edge of The Haunted Forest (as the townsfolk had so affectionately nicknamed), the hairs on his neck began to stand on end as the scent of something burning assaulted his nose. He could see nothing alight, and his eyebrows furrowed, wondering if the burning might be coming from within the trees. Yixing swallowed hard, staring at the entrance between two trees with hesitation. This forest hadn’t been nicknamed the Haunted Forest for no reason. It had been years since the last incident but it was said that anyone who entered through these trees would not leave them. Yixing wasn’t much for superstition, but the shiver down his back was making a pretty good argument against entering the Haunted Forest to test its name. 

“Probably a bunch of idiot foreigners,” a nearby woman muttered under her breath to the man standing beside her. Yixing gave her a confused look but followed her finger that pointed at the plume of smoke that rose from within the forest. “See? I told you it was haunted!”

The small crowd that had gathered out of curiosity started to disperse, leaving Yixing alone to frown as he studied the haze, standing on tiptoes as he tried to find the source. With the trees in front of him blocking most of his view, Yixing was resigned to accept the fact that he would never figure out if the laughing he heard now was coming from within. With a long sigh, he gave a last glance at the growing cloud of smoke before finally making the decision to leave; they would probably send helicopters to manage the fire, a mile above the forest, safe from the superstition. --insert Yixing taking pictures--

As Yixing finally turned to leave, movement caught the corner of his eye and he spun around to face the forest once more, watching as a (tall, dark and handsome) stranger emerged from its depths. 

**(“So much for a haunted forest,” Yixing muttered to himself. ???)**

~*~

“Oof,” Yifan ____ as he tumbled, back hitting something soft and unfamiliar. “What the…?” he murmured once he realised he wasn’t laying across the Pinnacle. “It… worked?!” he  **exclaimed** out loud to himself as he took in the green foliage above him. Excited, he let out a whoop, sending a flock of birds that had been nesting on the branches above him flying, a symphony of flapping wings high above him. A grin spread across his face as he spread his wings, arms coming up on either side as he took in the fresh air around him. With a great leap, he took off, laughing at the way the leaves tickled at his wings before he soared up and up, pausing as he crested through white clouds before he folded his wings around him and let himself fall, another laugh escaping him. ---

When the excitement has finally worn off, the reality of his situation soon settled in; he had no idea how he’s made it through The Veil and there didn’t seem to be a way back. He might’ve been the butt of everyone’s jokes but it was at least somewhere he could call  _ home _ . His claw closed around a branch closeby and he tore it off the trunk of its tree, frowning at its green extremities. He let out a forlorn sigh as he studied the shape, yelping and dropping the branch immediately when he realised that he’d set it alight. He looks down at the branch, leaves catching fire and withering into nothing. Yifan had never been able to conjure fire at will, being laughed at for his poor control of the simplest of elements. He plucks another leave off the closest try and breathes on it as well, admiring the way the leaf curls into itself before it is turned to ashes. Crumbling the ashes out of his hand, he looks up and takes a deep breath, letting it out in a hot flame that douces the nearest tree in flames and it’s not long before the fire starts to spread. He stands surrounded by dancing reds and oranges, ecstatic that it appears his powers have finally revealed themselves in this dimension. He picks a random direction, and with the comfort of fire licking at his sides, he concentrates on retracting his claws until they look like human hands. It takes some effort but his wings retract until his back is smooth. Another moment and he has human legs and branches crunch under his newly formed human feet. As he breaches the edge of the forest, he finds a curious human staring straight at him and Yifan frowns as he looks between his pitch black hands and the pale figure standing in front of him. He wills a colour change and finally flashes the stranger a smile when he’s decides he’s effectively simulated the human form. 

~*~

Bored, Yixing reached for his camera and fell face first into his bed, stuffing his pillow under his arms to prop himself up as he powered the device up. With a yawn, he clicked through the images he’d taken that day. 

Yixing wakes with a start, sweat beading at his temple from a nightmare he can’t remember. His pulse races and his breathing is short and he has to sit up. Head in his hand and knees tucked into his chest, he takes a couple of deep breaths to calm down, reminding himself that a man made of charcoal was impossible. He grabs his phone off the table beside him and settles back into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin as he flips through the news articles. He sits up again when he finds a particularly interesting one, a local article about a lost spirit in the haunted forest. It comes with a blurry image of something that could have easily been a bird above the forest. Something unsettles in his stomach and he scrambles to his bag and digs out his camera, turning it on with a drowsy finger and thumbing through the photos until he finds the one he’s looking for. It’s not as clear as he’d like it but he finds what he’s looking for. He zooms in on the image and finds the exact same flying figure in his pictures, back washed with the smoke of the fire. And the next picture is of the black figure he’d thought was simply a dream. He immediately jumps out of bed and heads to the journal he’d stolen out of the Lu attic when he’d first moved in. 

  
  


~*~

 

"Hi!" the new exchange student (Kris, he called himself, if Yixing recalls properly) greets with all too much excitement. He stands in front of Yixing like a wall, keeping the latter from getting to his locker. Yixing makes a deliberate attempt to sidestep around Kris, only to have the other mirror his actions to continue standing in Yixing's way.

"Uhm, can I help you?" Yixing asks with a raised eyebrow as he finally looks up at Kris with an annoyed frown.

"I'm hungry," Kris announces, like it has anything to do  _ with anything _ .

"And what did you want  _ me _ to do about it?" Yixing growls.

Kris frowns, disappointment evident in his expression, "Well, shouldn't you offer to feed me?"

"Excuse me?" Yixing returns.

The frown on Kris' face deepens, forehead creasing in a obvious display of confusion. "But...?"

Yixing rolls his eyes, finally managing to slip past Kris in the latter's momentary confusion.

"Did I mention I'm from Canada?" Kris continued, snapping out of his trance when Yixing managed to pull his locker open.

"Yes, about a hundred times already," Yixing rolled his eyes, putting away his first period textbook and exchanging it with the books from his second class of the day. "Is that supposed to mean something to me? Because it doesn't."

"We're nice people," Kris continues.

Yixing groans and slams his locker closed, taking off away from the exchange student who was starting to get increasingly  _ creepy _ for lack of a better word. He doesn't bother offering a reply, making straight for the staircase, trying to ignore the fact that the exchange student has decided to make himself Yixing's permanent shadow.

"What do you want?!" Yixing growls when he's gotten to his next class, only three students earlier than him. He slams his books on his desk when he realises that Kris has followed him into the classroom. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Kris grabs Yixing, making his bag fall to the floor with a quiet thud.

"What the fuck?!" Yixing exclaims before Kris grabs him by the chin, drawing the smaller up until the two lock eyes. "Seriously, what the fuck do you want?!" he exclaims before he suddenly feels the fire die in him.

"I'd like something to eat," Kris articulates, keeping his eye steadily trained on the other.

Yixing's eyebrows stitch together, trying to recall why he'd been so annoyed at the other only a moment ago, but his only thought now is how he needs to find some food for the other. There's an underlying and inexplicable tint of fear and caution to this new desire. "Yeah, there's a place around the corner I know has some good food, wanna go?"

~*~

Yifan frowned as his thumb lingered on the human's chin, eyes wide in an acceptance to do Yifan's bidding. He chews on his lip, jaw clenching when he recognizes his wording. The smile that graces Yixing's lips brings a shudder down his back, for reasons unknown even to himself. He clears his throat when Yixing suggests a local restaurant. "Yeah, uhm, nevermind," he utters under his breath, looking away quickly and taking off as the bell rings and students begin taking their seats. He swallows hard once he's back out in the hallway. He hadn't realised that his breathing had picked up and he wondered why he was surprised that he'd actually been successful in persuading a human to do what he wanted. He'd been awful at it in practice and he was still getting used to his powers being so much stronger in the human world.

~*~

"Who was that?" Minseok piped up, settling in his seat next to Yixing's.

"Uh...." Yixing paused, staring at the classroom door even as their teacher started to ask everyone to take their seats and to turn to page 173 of their history textbooks. "Oh, uhm, that was, uh, the uh..." Yixing struggled, shaking his head as if waking from a dream, "That was the exchange student," he finally manages to eke out.

"Exchange student?" Minseok repeats in an urgent whisper.

"Uh, calls himself Kris, I think. From Canada," Yixing mutters, as he flips the pages in his textbook and then pulls the cap off his pen. "Why are you so interested?"

"I'm not," Minseok frowns and pulls back into his seat.

Yixing doesn't bother giving another response, chewing on the pen cap and flipping his pen between his fingers as he tries to focus on their teacher's lesson.

~*~

"So," Lu Han plops down across from Yixing in the cafeteria, leaving his food untouched as he turns to face his best friend, "Minnie tells me that we've got a new exchange student in the school."

Yixing's eyebrows furrow together as he grabs a fry off Lu Han's plate and shoves it in his mouth, "What is it with both of you and your fixation on this guy?"

Lu Han frowns and starts to dig into his lunch. "I'm not  _ fixated _ on him. Just curious. Why aren't  _ you _ more curious? A new student just  _ shows up _ and you have no desire to get to know this guy?"

Yixing rolls his eyes and continues about his meal, not bothering to give a verbal acknowledgement okay when Minseok sits down next to Lu Han. Yixing watches the two have a secret conversation with their eyes and has to put down his burger. He scowls at the couple, wondering why he bothers hanging around these two any more. He's almost glad when the trio are joined by a fourth.

Kris takes the seat beside Yixing, though it seemed like he was purposely leaving a sizable space between them. "Hi," he announces himself, holding his hand out to shake. Yixing avoids looking at Kris, making a point to focus on anywhere BUT Kris. He pokes at his (lunch) and from the corner of his eye, he can see Lu Han nudge Minseok in the side for ignoring Kris' offered hand. Minseok offers his hand only after a long stare, and only after Lu Han smacks the other other the head. "You're... Kris, right?" Lu Han chirps, chomping on a fry.

Kris nods, and Yixing can distinctly feel him turning his focus around to him. "So uhm, I just wanted to... I guess... apologize? Is that the right word? For uhm... for earlier... with the whole.. food thing..." he managed to get out. "Can we... can we start again?" He clears his throat and turns to hold his hand out to Yixing. "I'm Kris, it's nice to meet you."

Yixing turns to glare at the hand, trying hard not to remember how weird it had felt the last time he'd shared word with Kris. He eyes the offered hand and after Lu Han clears his throat and kicks him under the table, he takes it, shaking it slowly and wondering when the last time he'd met someone and  _ shook hands _ with them, like old businessmen. "I'm... Yixing..." he reciprocates.

"So... that restaurant that you suggested this morning? Any chance we could still go?"

Yixing frowns, "I thought you said we're starting fresh," he says flatly before a glance at Minseok whispering into Lu Han's ear makes him change his mind. "Okay fine, but only if you promise not to be... weird again."

Kris frowns at that, "Well I can't say I  _ promise _ to not be weird, but I'll try my best?"

Another glance at his best friend with his boyfriend solidifies his decision, "Good enough for me."

~*~

Kris gets to his feet, wringing his hand behind his back as he waits for Yixing to get up. and join him. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't feel right using his powers of persuasion to get Yixing to follow him. Isn't that the entire point of the Harvest? Wasn't getting a human to follow him back to his world the reason why he'd try to get to this dimension in the first place? To prove to that idiot Chanyeol that he was as good as any of their harvesters? He takes a deep breath and forces what humans recognize as a smile onto his face, holding the door open for Yixing as they left the cafeteria. He follows Yixing to the nearest exit.

 

~*~

  
  
  


_ I met a strange boy today, his skin so black, he blended into the night, eyes red like blood and hair snow white. Crazy right? I found him lying at the edge of the forest and I thought he might be dead. Except he was only asleep. I don't know how I know, but I just do. I know he's not human, no  _ human _ looks like that. _

-

_ He says his name is Xiumin. Funny, right? He says he can't remember how he got here or even where he's from, just remembers his name. To be quite honest, I don't believe him. I think he's hiding something, but I pretended to believe his story. How can I not? We all have secrets and who am  _ I _ of all people, to judge him for keeping his real identity concealed? He begged me to keep him a secret, that he didn't want the other townspeople to know he was here; he didn't think it'd be safe. I agreed to it. _

-

_ I told him who I am. I'm not sure why, but I feel like I can trust him, and even though there's this tiny voice that's telling me that I should  _ run,  _ I can't. I don't  _ want  _ to. _

-

_ He finally opened up to me, showed me who he really is today. I'm embarrassed to say that I ran away. He's out there right now,  _ alone _ , because I couldn't bring myself to be  _ accepting _. I'm a coward. _

-

_ I love him. I don't know how, but I do. I don't understand how it's possible; he's not even human. I haven't told him though. I'm not even sure how. _

-

_ He's a prince. That's what he said. A PRINCE. How? _

-

_ I will miss him, but I know he'll be back, he promised and I trust him. _

 

~*~

"So... what's good here?" Kris asks once they've been seated. He opens the menu, eyebrows furrowing like he's trying to read a foreign language.

"Special 3's good. 6 is okay too," Yixing suggests, pointing at the associated items on Kris' menu. Kris looks up and Yixing can't help but laugh at the confusion on the other's face. "Do you want me to order for you?"

"That's probably best," Kris acknowledges, setting down his menu and staring hard at Yixing who clears his throat uncomfortably, looking for the closest waiter to hail down to take his order.

~*~

Yifan watches Yixing put down the orders for their food. He's still not familiar with human life and their words are even more elusive. He doesn't know how he'd gotten so off track, how he'd forgotten the reason he was here in the first place, and yet this draw he feels towards this... this  _ Yixing...  _ he can't explain it but he just has the need to be around the human.

"What?" Yixing asks when he finally catches Yifan staring, or rather glaring at him.

Yifan doesn't answer, just keeps his gaze steady on the other, hardly blinking even as their food arrives on hot plates, steam still billowing off the tops.

"Dig in, then," Yixing prompts, picking up his own pair of ... was it called chopsticks? Yifan looks down at his plate, and then back up at Yixing, frowning as he watches the other hold the strange utensils in his hand. "I thought you were hungry?" Yixing asks.

"Uhm," Yifan points at the chopsticks and gives what he understands as a universally accepted gesture of confusion, a shrug.

"Oh, sorry, I just assumed... you know.. since you could speak Chinese fine that you could use chopsticks. Forgot you were from Canada. I'll get you a fork."

"Uh, yeah," Yifan agrees, taking advantage of the offered excuse. "Right, Canada," he repeats. He'd chosen that country because of the knowledge that he'd learned back in school. And he might've been able to pick up speaking chinese relatively easily, but reading it was something else. He looks at the 'fork' that arrives, perplexed. Yixing looks at him funny and Yifan searches his memory for instructions, and then finally picking up the unfamiliar utensil in hand, and manages to pick up a

  
  
  
  



	10. [Fanxing] Mafia/Prostitute AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is basically the summary of this WIP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the spawn of an attempt to fill a yifantasy fest prompt. I don't remember the exact words but they wanted Kris as a sex slave and Yixing as someone whose parents think getting him a sex slave will fix things... As I was plotting the fic out, I learned that this isn't what people usually think when it's a sex slave AU so I tossed this into the WIP for later lol (I have actually proceeded to do it somewhat properly later and THAT's a whole 'nother disaster but a disaster I'm still willing to work on right now...)
> 
> Warning: white haired Yifan. Because holy ****. White hair Yifan can f**k me up so good.

Opening scene: Yixing gets up for a smoke outside, leaving the VIP room where Luhan and Tao were having fun while being surrounded by girls. Yixing was never much a fan of the ladies but this was Tao’s birthday, not his. Luhan clearly didn’t mind, never minding the company of either. He squinted hard through the dim lights towards the back exit, shivering as he got pelted with droplets of rain before pulling his hood up, trying to light his cigarette but failing repeated. He cursed having forgotten to have his zippo properly refilled before heading out tonight. He swore out loud only to have a small flame lit under his nose. He grunted a quick thanks before inhaling deep as the end of his cigarette glowed orange. The zippo snapped shut and Yixing looked up to figure out who had done him the favour, head tilting more than he’d expected as he took in the tall figure. He didn’t recognize the face, though it was hard to tell as he blinked through the rain, grey locks matting on his forehead. The stranger looked down to put his lighter away into the pocket of his black blazer, leaving one hand in his pocket and the other coming up to pull his own cigarette away, blowing a long trail of smoke up. “No problem,” he replied, turning away to look towards the street. It was a typical action to avoid having to make awkward conversation and Yixing felt jilted at this moment, annoyed that Tao had wanted to go to a place that for once wasn’t owned by the Family; at least at one of those places, Yixing wouldn’t be ignored by someone who was clearly here _to be of service_ , with his shirt buttons opened down past his chest. “You work here?” Yixing asked, eyes wandering down the stranger’s height and then back up to meet his eye when the stranger turned to face him once more, breathing out a cloud of grey. Yixing watched himself getted eyed up and down, “Sweetie, you couldn’t afford it,” he smirked before dropping his cigarette and putting it out under his shoe. “Enjoy your smoke,” he grinned, eyes bloodshot, before pulling open the door and disappearing inside. Yixing scowled, inhaling deep before grounding his teeth hard together. He could afford to buy _all_ of this.

\---

“Tell me again why you want to buy this place? What exact purpose would it serve us to obtain yet another _entertainment-based_ restaurant/gentlemen’s club when we have so many already? And this one belongs to the Yangs, no less,” Yixing’s father eyed his son wearily upon hearing his proposal. Yixing pouted and his teeth ground together, not willing to admit that the reason behind the proposal was because he needed to prove the stranger-with-a-lighter that he was wrong. His father sighed, “Let me guess, someone pissed you off and now you want to get back at them.” Yixing flinched, annoyed again to have been so easily revealed. He sighed exasperatedly, “Fine, on one condition though. You manage it. Every penny that passes through those doors would be your responsibility.” Yixing scowled at his father’s most recent attempt to get him involved in the family business; apparently, being forced through 4 years of business school wasn’t enough to satisfy the old man. “And the employees then?” His father eyed him with a raised eyebrow, suspicious of how little argument Yixing had presented this time. “They’re mostly Yang’s men but I imagine there’s a price on everyone else’s head in there.” Yixing couldn’t help the grin that started to form, “And we’d end up owning them then?” Father frowned, “This isn’t a game, Yixing. If you don’t turn a profit within six months, the difference will come straight out of your own pocket. And we don’t mix business with pleasure, son,” he warned, as if reading his son’s mind. Yixing scowled, “What’s the point? It’s not like I’ll ever run this Family, I’ve got two brothers ahead of me in line.” “You still need to know, it’s a _family_ business.” Yixing hesitated but the image of grey matted hair on a face that looked down on him (figuratively and literally) made up his mind for him. “I’ll do it.”

\---

Trio flipping through the club’s books, surprisingly high end in their presentation. Velvet books bound, one for the females and one for the males. Luhan flipped casually through the men’s book, remarking out loud a number ranking for each portrait, occasionally letting out a whistle of approval. “Oh, is this the grey haired one that said you couldn’t afford him?” Luhan whistled long, “I can see why you’d be upset.” Yixing scowled and pretended to get lost in the number of bound notebooks that kept a record of each transaction. “Says here his name is _Kris_.” He flipped the book over to show Tao who was busy flipping through the other book, “What d’yah think, Tao?” Tao made a sort of disgusted look, “Really? You’re asking _me?_ I dunno, he’s got weird grey hair like an old man?” “Wow, how insightful, Tao,” Luhan rolled his eyes, before bringing the book back to himself

  
  


Yixing likes fast cars, takes Kris on drive where the latter simply closes his eyes and grips his seatbelt desperately while Yixing laughs, hitting the brakes hard just to draw yips from Yifan. Has a whole lot of cars that he always says he wants to testdrive with Yifan and the speed/rush always gets him turned on.

OR

Both apparently have the same tendency of enjoying the speed and Yixing notices once that Kris wasn’t really into it OR near the end, offers to let Kris drive his favourite and they end up fucking in the car because Kris’ control of the stick shift just gets Yixing so hard.

  


Father asks why there seems to be seems to be something wrong with Yixing’s books; it looks like a whole person had gone missing, his debt paid in full. “I usually know when there’s someone out there rich enough and dumb enough to do something like this.” Yixing grit his teeth, “I did it, that’s my money.” “I told you not to mix business with pleasure.” “I don’t care, and it’s too late now isn’t it? And what does it matter? I met your deadline didn’t I?” Father makes a sort of humming sound and slaps the book closed, “Well, I guess you’re right. Keep up the good work.” “That’s it?” “What else would there be?” “I dunno, another lecture?” “You’re a grown man and clearly you’re capable of making the right decisions,” he gestures to the closed book, “So if you think that it was worth your time to buy out this …” he flips through the pages, “ _Kris_ , then that’s your decision to live with.”

 


	11. [Fanxing] Transcript of Yifan and Yixing's last phone conversation ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title is pretty self explanatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I attempted to do something for the fanxinghan fest and this was one of the prompts. I started it but had no idea how to end it. It was supposed to be emo but I dunno if I emo'd enough :|

Yixing woke up with a shiver, regretting his decision to flop face down onto the hotel bed immediately after his shower last night without throwing on a proper shirt first. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist when he’d stepped out of the shower had unravelled from around him, now a soggy pile caught between his legs. It was an unfamiliar sensation; while falling asleep in insufficient clothing was a longtime bad habit of his, it was usually offset by his roommate’s bad habit of throwing a blanket over top of him when he came in later that night, a habit Yifan had developed when they were rooming together back in Korea a year ago.

Glancing to his right, a stream of light from between the closed curtains revealed the messy sheets next to him, the bed's other (inhabitant) no where in sight elsewhere in the room in the dim light. With a furrowed brow, Yixing propped himself up on his elbows and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn, kicking the wet towel off the end of his bed and digging into his luggage beside him for a pair of clean underwear, too lazy to get to his feet before pulling them on. Feeling around the bedside table for his phone to check the time blinking blearily when a '3:05' projected up at him.

Hey where’d you go?

Yixing stared at his phone screen blankly after sending the message, waiting for a reply with another yawn. EXO-M's schedule was packed for the next few days in preparation for their concert, and their flight back to Seoul was in less than four hours.

???

Yixing continued to stare at the screen, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding when a message finally returned

Just out for some fresh air.

Had to clear my head

Go back to bed, you have to wake up in   
another hour to catch that flight

So do you, so why don't you come back to the room? Kinda cold in the bed right now.

Ten minutes passed without a reply and Yixing was slowly drifting back to sleep again when his phone dinged with an incoming message.

You know I love you, right?

Yixing's eyebrows stitched together momentarily at the reply but typed out a quick response before dropping his phone onto the bed next to his pillow as his eyelids drooped closed once more.

Yeah, I love you too, you loser. Come back up soon, okay?

 

***

When the alarm on Yixing’s phone goes off an hour and a half later, he reaches for it clumsily, fumbling a moment before he manages to peel his eyes open long enough to swipe the notification away. With a lazy groan, he rolls over, expecting to meet the warmth that has been there beside him for the last couple of days. When he’s greeted with cool sheets instead, he snaps properly awake.

“Yifan?” he calls into the empty room, his voice raspy with early morning __(non-use)__. He clears his throat and tries again, switching on the bedside lamp as he glances from the emptiness beside him to the armchair in front of the window to the open bathroom door. 

His phone pings with a message from their manager to meet in the lobby in half an hour. Yixing gets out of bed, tripping over his luggage and almost falling. He pulls up his conversation history with Yifan to ask where the latter is only to find that a message is already waiting for him.

Go on ahead to the airport without me, I have a couple things I need to do.

Yixing frowns, rubbing his eyes to make sure he’s reading the message correctly. When he’s sure the message is real, he sighs loudly in the empty room; their manager  _ hated _ when any of them didn’t follow their schedules to the minute and this new development certainly fell under that category.

Nearly tripping again (this time over the lip from the hotel room carpet into the bathroom’s cold tiles), Yixing flips the lights on and busies himself with getting ready for the day. 

 

When Yixing shows up in the lobby without Yifan, their manager sighs heavily when given the news that Yifan has gone off on his own. A muttered comment under his breath about being always disappearing on his own, making him a terrible leader makes Yixing swallow uneasily, suddenly thinking back to Yifan’s long departure a year ago when EXO was preparing for the release of ‘Wolf’. 

 

The sense of dread that Yixing didn’t quite recognize when he first woke up that morning finally manifests itself properly when there is an announcement to prepare for boarding and Yifan still hasn’t shown up. His conversation history with ‘duizhang’ has been one-sided for the last hour, with Yixing sending repeated unanswered texts asking where Yifan is.

“We can’t wait any longer,” their manager announces as he gets to his feet, motioning for everyone to join him. He doesn’t say anything further about Yifan’s absence, but the muscles in his jaw are pulled taut, eyebrows stitched together in obvious worry. “Let’s go.”

Lu Han comes up beside Yixing as they wait in line at the gate, silently reaching out to give Yixing’s a quick squeeze around the shoulder. He doesn’t say anything as his hand falls back to his side, clearing his throat once as he silently pledges his support. Yixing smiles weakly at his best friend, wishing that it was enough to quell the panic. He looks down at his phone again, shooting off yet another message he hopes, but doubts, will generate any response. 

 

Yixing is restless the entire flight (thankfully, Lu Han doesn’t say anything beside him) and when they land in Seoul, he immediately checks his phone for any update from his leader, chewing on his thumb nail impatiently as he waits for all the services to return to the device. 

Lu Han elbows Yixing a second later, wordlessly pointing at their manager, seated alone a couple rows back next to Kris’ vacant chair, face ashen and eyes wide as he reads whatever news it is he’s seeing on his phone. He brings the phone to his ear, expression impatient as he waits for whoever he’s calling to pick up the other end of his call. His voice is low, muffled behind the hand he holds over his mouth when he catches Yixing and Lu Han staring at him. 

The moment the seatbelt light is extinguished, their manager is on his feet, pushing past the other passengers to get to his _____. “Phones,” he demands, holding his hands out expectantly. There’s an exchange of confused looks between the five members; they haven’t had their phones taken from them since their ‘MAMA’, now entrusted with being able to manage their time on their own. “ _ Now _ ,” he presses in a tone that has all of them digging into their pockets quickly. Stowing the phones in his backpack, their manager turns to Yixing with a stern expression, “I have to talk to the airport staff and get them to let us use the VIP exit on short notice.”

Yixing’s nose crinkles as his eyebrows stitch together. He opens his mouth to remind their manager that they’d decided that they’d greet their fans when they landed today only to be interrupted before he can get a single sound out. 

“_____’s in charge until I get back,” he cuts in before disappearing to the head of the plane, nodding his apologies to the other passengers as he pushes past them. 

 

They say paper can’t wrap fire and though their managers try to keep them occupied with extra practice for their upcoming tour, the eleven boys figure it out eventually. Their manager takes pity on them and ends their practice at nine pm. The car ride back to the dorms is deathly quiet with physical and emotional exhaustion and Yixing returns to the room he now shares with a ghost. He closes the door behind him quietly, leaning against it and sliding down its length until his tailbone hits the cold, hard floor. He has no idea how long he’s been staring at Yifan’s empty bed blankly before there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Xing?” Lu Han calls quietly, waiting a long beat before continuing, “Can I come in?”

Yixing plays with the idea of just ignoring his best friend but remembers that Lu Han is stubborn and will likely not leave Yixing alone until he’s granted access to the room. He wipes at his eyes quickly before shifting along the floor and reaching up for the doorknob. “Why aren’t you with Minseok?” he asks, hating how his voice shakes as Lu Han pushes the door inwards. 

Lu Han only shrugs as a reply before closing the door again and taking a seat next to Yixing on the floor. They sit in silence for what feels like hours before Lu Han finally speaks. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mutters before shifting in place, pulling something out of his sweater pocket. Yixing recognizes it as an old flip phone, similar to one he owned when he was still in high school but clearly newer. “Ratbastard came up to me the day Overdose was released and asked me to give it to you if anything ever happened.”

Yixing stares at the tiny device spinning slowly between Lu Han’s thumb and forefinger a long moment before looking up at his best friend, “What?”

Lu Han pressed his eyes closed tightly, squeezing the bridge of his nose with a long sigh, “I had no idea what he was talking about; you know how he is with his secrets. I thought he was just drunk, he certainly smelled like soju, so I took it just to shut him up. I didn’t know he’d…  _ do this _ ,” he trailed. “I forgot all about it until he didn’t show up at the airport and I wasn’t even going to entertain the idea of doing what he asked. He doesn’t deserve my help,” he hisses, his knuckles going white as his fingers fold tightly around the phone. 

Yixing watches as the muscles in Lu Han’s jaw clench and unclench repeatedly, silence falling in the room once more for a minute before Lu Han gets to his feet with a long breath out. Yixing’s neck cranes upwards to watch the other breathe in and out several times to calm himself before finally holding his palm open. “It’s your decision. I checked it before coming over. It’s only got one number in the address book.”

Yixing hesitates before reaching for the device, the cool plastic casing burning to the touch. 

“I… I gotta get back to Minseok, but if you need me,” he trails, swallowing before turning around and throwing the door open without finishing the sentence. He stares at the closed door for a beat before dropping his gaze to the device in his hand. 

His mind races with a million questions (How long has Yifan been planning this? Why did he keep this a secret? Why did he give this phone to Lu Han? Why did Yifan trust Lu Han and not  _ him _ ?) as he flicks his thumb and pops open the phone, a pixelated default background image of a field of flowers glaring up at him, its bright yellows and oranges mocking his confused heart.

Yixing scrolls through the menu to find the contacts list and as Lu Han already made note of, there was a single phone number stored, with no name. His thumb hovers over the button with a green phone on it until the screen goes dark with inactivity. With a deep breath he brings the screen back to life and dials the number. He holds his breath as he brings the phone to his ear, waiting for the call to connect. 

It only rings once before he hears the click of someone picking up.

“Xing?”

The sound of  _ his _ voice knocks the wind out of Yixing and he feels his throat close up. All he manages is to squeak a broken “Yifan?” before he starts to laugh a little uncontrollably. 

There’s a long pause over the ear piece before Yifan speaks again, “I… why are you laughing?”

The question sends Yixing into another raucous bout and he has to take several deep breaths to calm down enough to string words together. “I had this  _ ridiculous _ dream where you up and left us for no reason and filed some stupid lawsuit against SM.”

“Xing…” Yifan calls over the phone softly, “That… that wasn’t a dream.”

“No,” Yixing clears his throat, “It’s not a dream, it’s a fucking nightmare, you asshole,” he answers flatly. 

“I… I’m sorry we couldn’t speak sooner. My lawyer said not to-”

“Not to what, Yifan?” Yixing retorts, feeling his voice rise, “Answer the five thousand texts I sent you or take even one of the millions calls I made to you? Well, good thing that all our phones got taken away then, isn’t it? Except you went and found a way around that, didn’t you? Always one step ahead of everyone else,  _ isn’t our duizhang so smart? _ ” he asked, voice dripping in sarcasm. 

“I’m sorry,” Yifan repeats, voice cracking.

‘Sorry’s’ all you’ve got? No fucking explanation for why you decided to abandon all your brothers at the drop of a dime with  _ zero _ consideration?  _ I thought you were dead for the long hours before I found out that you were just a traitor, for fuck’s sake _ .”

“Xing, please,” Yifan pleads only to be interrupted.

“ _ Please, what, Yifan?! _ ” he all but shouts, almost forgetting that their manager is still seated outside on the couch in the living room. “ _ Forgive you _ ?!  _ Like hell! _ Did you forget the promises over  _ deokbokki _ we made before we officially debuted? That we’d fight for this dream, side by side? Or was that just a lie.”

“I’ve never lied to you,  _ ever.  _ And I never  _ will _ .”

“No, you just  _ neglect details _ , just like you  _ neglected _ to explain your disappearance last year.”

“I told you that I had family issues,” Yifan explained, his voice tight in the way Yixing knows it gets when he’s touched a sensitive topic. He usually lets the topic slide when Yifan gets like this but he’s too angry to feel like being  _ considerate. “ _ And what does that have to do with  _ this _ ?”

“‘Family issues’?!” Yixing repeats, getting to his feet to pace the length between the two beds, “ _ We’re _ supposed to be your family too! And you just up and left!” He snaps his fingers even though he knows the other can’t see or hear him, “ _ For a second time! _ This has  _ everything _ to do with what happened last year! You keep telling us that it was because of  _ family shit _ , and maybe you even convinced yourself, but I’ve known you for six years, Yifan, do you think I can’t tell when you’re hiding something?”

“I wasn’t hiding anything.”

“ _ Bullshit _ . You didn’t disappear off the face of the planet for months for ‘family issues’. And then you come back only just in time for a last minute plug-in for the Wolf MV? Just admit it, Yifan. You weren’t going to come back, were you?” The idea had always been something Yixing played with in his head when 

“Just like that, you dropped us like _______, like it was  _ nothing _ !”

“It wasn’t  _ nothing _ , Yixing! It was six years of my life!”

“Then why did you do it?!”

The silence on the line was deafening and Yixing’s teeth ground together until his jaw hurt. A tiny voice in his head tried to tell him that he was being unfair, that he hadn’t bothered to let Yifan explain himself.  _ ‘He could’ve explained himself before leaving _ ,’ he thought bitterly,  _ instead of saying nothing and just disappearing like a coward. _

“This wasn’t about you guys, Yixing, you know that,” Yifan starts after a long pause, his voice thin and strained. “If this was just about the group, I would never leave,  _ you know that _ ,” he repeated, as if somehow, reminding Yixing that he’s supposed to know Yifan better is supposed to make  _ not knowing Yifan _ better. “I would never leave  _ you _ .”

Yixing swallows hard, Yifan’s words hanging in the silence between them for a long moment before either of them speak again. 

“I’ll miss you,” Yixing manages to eke out, the back of his head settling against the wall as he stared at Yifan’s empty bed, his shoulders finally relaxing. He was tired, tired from the flight, tired from the practice, tired from avoiding his brothers and tired of fighting. 

 

  
  



	12. [Fanxing] 'Body & Soul'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Yixing sings in bars and Yifan drinks in bars, they have to collide at some point, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another attempt to do something for the fanxinghan fest. This was supposed to be written in the style of an autobiography of a famous author (Lu Han) and Chapter 7 of the autobiography would be his account of how fanxing met and fell in love. I realised that I couldn't come up with a romance that would be great enough to re-inspire an author to write a best-seller so... here it is abandoned lmao

_ By the time I was twenty-six, I already had two best-sellers under my belt but just as I was nearing my twenty-seventh birthday, I had hit a wall, lacking motivation for my next project. ‘A slump’ is what many would call it but I have no name for that period of time in my life. All I could say was that it was difficult; I’d lost my way with words, every syllable I wrote was wrong and I’d started to become even more of a recluse, eating poorly and sleeping worse. My editor told me that it might help to go travelling for a bit, find some new inspiration so I did just that. _

_ I spent not a short amount of time in Changsha, finding myself a place to stay in a hostel above a small jazz bar by the name of ‘Monodrama’, owned by cousins. I can’t recall how I found my way there but I am glad that I did; some writers have their coffee shops and I had that dusty bar in Changsha. It was there that I found the love story I would need to rekindle my desire to create. I can’t say it was the most profound love, nor the most touching - hell, it wasn’t even mine - but it made me appreciate the arts again, made me remember what it meant to create and how much it can heal. _

_ ‘Monodrama’ was quiet most days, and though it opened its doors at noon, it was empty save for a handful of bored and probably unemployed adults. Weekends fared better, of course, but only marginally. The drink menu was limited and though the bartender was skilled, it was the live entertainment that kept the regulars returning _

_ His name was Zhang Yixing, fifty per cent owner of ‘Monodrama’ and in my opinion, the only reason why the establishment hadn’t gone bankrupt. I was in Changsha for a total of eighty-four days and there was only one night where Yixing wasn’t on stage with his mic and piano. _

_ And this is his story. _

&&&

The incident happened on a Tuesday at 2:17pm. There was a weak knock at the front window that had the handful of customers looking up from their seats to find a bloody handprint left behind on the glass as its owner stumbled towards the bar’s entrance. No one seemed to know what to do, all frozen in place in shock until the soft tinkle from the bell above the door echoed in the silent building.

“Help…” the bleeding girl gasped raspily before falling to her knees.

Yixing was the first to come to his senses, “Holy shit, someone call an ambulance!” he ordered as he climbed over the bar counter and rushed to the injured girl’s side. “Tao, get me the first aid kit,” he called, sending his cousin tripping over his feet into the back, returning a few seconds later.

“Excuse me, I can help, I’m a doctor,” one of the regulars offered, getting to his knees next to the injured girl, barely waiting for Yixing to move out of the way before interacting with his newest patient, trying to draw a coherent response from the girl with a couple snaps of his fingers.

“My name is Wu Yifan, can you hear me?” he asked with no response as he took the first aid kit, opening it easily and retrieving the gloves within.

Everyone in the bar watched on in a tense silence as the doctor cut away the front of her shirt until he located the the source of the crimson stain around her midriff. A crowd was starting to gather even on the outside of the bar and Yixing sent his cousin out to make sure no one came inside while the doctor worked to address the wound.

After what felt like an hour, the sound of sirens could be heard outside and another moment later, a couple of paramedics pushed through the crowd to get inside. Yifan began explaining what had happened as they lifted her onto their stretcher, following the duo and hopping into the back of the ambulance before the doors closed.

There was a long moment of silence as all the ‘Monodrama’ regulars exchanged glances, silently asking if what they’d just witnessed had actually happened. The answer was obvious when a police car rolled up to the bar a minute later, scattering the nosy bystanders that had gathered when the officers stepped out of their vehicle.

Every customer and employee recited the same story to the officers, all of them confused about how the girl was injured and where she came from. By the time the bar was finally void of any government employees, the sky was already dark. ‘Monodrama’ didn’t charge for any of the outstanding bills, closing shop early for the night. Everyone went home in silence, still shaken by the event.

&&&

The next day, it was business as usual and the events of the previous day had brought in more customers than usual, eager to satisfy their curiosity from those with the first hand story. Yixing found himself turning down at least seven requests for an official interview by multiple network stations and he escaped to the stage to perform, avoiding further request as a new composition filled the room.

Wu Yifan showed up as the bar calmed down, people leaving to have dinner with the families. He walked up to the bar counter as if it was just any other day and before he could put in his request, Tao had already placed a drink in front of him. “Scotch on the rocks with a twist, right?” he asked, getting a confused nod from the doctor.

“It’s on the house tonight,” Yixing chimed in, stepping off the stage and making his way over.

“Uhm,” Yifan started, eyeing the drink skeptically, “I’m flattered and all, but, uh, can I ask what your intentions are?” he asked, settling into his chair cautiously.

“Did you forget what happened yesterday? You know, the part where you probably saved that girl’s life?”

Yifan blinked a couple of times before realisation hit him and he let out a soft chuckle, reaching into his jacket for his wallet. “Oh, no, this is completely unnecessary, I was just doing my job,” he explained, placing a crisp bill on the counter before reaching for his drink. “By the way, she’s going to be okay, in case that’s what you were wondering.”

“You don’t seem too enthused about that,” Yixing remarked, hopping onto a stool and pushing the money back towards the doctor.

Yifan shrugged, ignoring Yixing’s efforts as he placed his glass to his lips, “I work in the ER, she’s just another patient.”

“ER?” Yixing asked with intrigue, his eyes gleaming. “Must be exciting saving lives all day.”

The doctor rolled his eyes, “It’s more ‘I’ve got a cold and don’t want to wait until tomorrow to see my family doctor’ than ‘Please help me! I’ve been shot!’,” he explained, dramatically waving his arms in the air at the second  option. Yixing frowned, as if disappointed that there would be no sharing of fantastically gruesome stories, earning himself a light chuckle from his customer. “Actually, to be fair, there is  _ a lot _ of weird cases. I mean, there’s way too many people who come in because of some failed attempt at some random sex move they learned on the internet.”

Yixing nearly spat out his drink at the information, coughing a couple times behind closed lips before swallowing properly. “You need to warn people before you drop something like that!” he exclaimed indignantly, wiping a trail of liquid that had escaped past his lips with the back of his hand. 

“Something like what?” Yifan asked, clearly oblivious to the effect his words had on his audience.

“The thing with the sex!” Yixing clarified as he put his glass down, shaking his head slightly at Yifan’s confusion.

I realised something was off with the doctor when he came in one day with a flushed face, ordered his whiskey neat, and downed it in a single gulp before asking for another. 


	13. [Fanxing] Sword!Yixing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "When Yifan buys a sword at an antique shop, he doesn't expect to find a man clad in armour in its place the next morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When this (https://twitter.com/fanxingprompts/status/848900219567718400) first came out, I freaked out. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW GREAT THIS COULD BE??? Alas, my skillset is not on par with this AU. I tried for a bit but then I couldn't quite get a proper grasp on the tone of the fic vs. what I wanted to actually happen plotwise for the fic.

(name of store) didn’t give off much of a welcoming vibe and Kris Wu had to double check the address written on his phone, the grape lollipop almost falling out of his mouth as his jaw hangs loose. “You’re kidding me, right?” he asked out loud rhetorically, voice garbled by the candy as he peered in through the small window on the front door to find a bored looking girl flipping through an unrecognizable magazine. 

A tiny bell sounded as Kris stepped through the door, pulling his hood down before he looked around, keeping his expression neutral as he pretended to peruse the items on display; he had little interest in many items that littered the walls, eyes skimming over them as he looked for the subject of his excursion tonight. 

“Let me know if anything catches your eyes,” the woman muttered, barely looking up from her magazine, the sound of pages flipping filling the otherwise silent shop. 

Kris made a grunt of acknowledgement as he took slow steps towards a rack of swords, eyes scanning down before he found what he was looking for. “How much for one of these?” he asked out loud, gesturing towards the rack in his best effort to not seem too interested. 

“Uh, which one?” she asked finally looking up as she crossed her arms on the glass counter under her. 

Kris shrugged, taking the lollipop out of his mouth and pointing it at nothing specific. The girl rolled her eyes at the response and dropped her head down once more, “Yeah, sure,” she remarked irritably under her breath. “That one's a million dollars,” she answered, sarcasm thick on her voice. 

Kris didn't bother hiding his smile, clearing his throat before opening his mouth again, “Fine, this one, fifth one down the rack with the (redwood) handle.” 

The girl looked up once more, this time with a slightly more interested expression on her features. “Huh,” she grumbled when she saw which item Kris was inquiring about, raising an eyebrow into her forehead. “You some kind of psychic?” she asked, standing up properly with her arms crossed. 

“I'm sorry, what?” Kris blurted, not sure if his plan to get the sword for a decent price by acting uninterested was uncovered. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so specific about the material on the handle; a random person looking at the messy collection shouldn’t know what a (redwood) handle looked like. 

“I didn't mean to be rude, it's just that…” she apologized, words trailing into nothing as a frown formed deep creases in her face, “that belonged to my boyfri-,” she hesitated, clearing he throat, “My  _ ex- _ boyfriend wanted to see what it might sell for.” She fell silent again and Kris shifted uncomfortably on the spot, not sure if he should say anything to break the silence. “I'll give it to you for seventy, he’d probably be real upset that I practically gave away his family heirloom,” she grinned and Kris had to fake a cough to cover up his alarm. 

Kris' mouth opened and closed several times as he stopped himself from exclaiming that it would be an affront to treat this sword like scrap metal; its true worth was immeasurable. He cleared his throat when he noticed that the storekeeper was eyeing him suspiciously. “I’ll give you fifty, in cash,” he proposed, continuing to play the part of a disinterested passer-by.

She contemplated the offer, chewing her lip as she stared at the item in question for a moment before shrugging, “Make it sixty and you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Kris feigned hesitation before he reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills to hand over. “You got a bag or something?”

The storekeeper snorted, rolling her eyes, “What you see is what you get,” she muttered unhelpfully.

“Oh, uh, then thanks?” Kris replied uneasily, reaching for his purchase. 

The storekeeper made a sort of humming sound before she turned her attention once more to the magazine in front of her. 

“I’ll just let myself out then,” Kris said, though, given the lack of reaction, he might as well have been talking to a wall. “Right. Thanks,” he repeated before rolling his eyes at himself, ‘ _ Yeah, just keep talking to yourself, Wu Kris, that’s not weird or anything. Just grab the sword and go home, you idiot. _ ’ He cleared his throat just to fill the silence in the store as he hurried towards the exit, smiling past his candy when the door closes behind him, not sure what god he should thank for tonight’s good fortune. Glancing around him, he pulled his hood up around him again and started walking in the direction of the nearest  metro station. 

Kris only relaxed when he was back in his apartment back against his locked front door as he let out a long sigh of relief. The train ride home had been stressful; every stranger that Kris made eye contact with had him worried that they might rush at him and steal his new acquisition. Finally able to relax, Kris pulled off his hood and tossed the plastic stick of his candy - now riddled with deep teeth marks from his anxiety - into the trash can. Wincing, he finally loosened his fingers from around the sword’s guard, taking it with the other hand as he tried to work the muscles loose. “Should really get a car,” he grumbled out loud to himself. The museum curator had lost track of how many times he’d repeated tonight’s trip home, constantly terrified that some stranger would steal his bounty on his way home. 

“Alright, let’s take a look.” He took a seat at his couch and pulled the coffee table closer. With one hand still holding onto the antiquated weapon, he cleared the surface of the mess living there, taking care to not rip any of the old pages as he stacked them out of the way and to the side. He set the artifact down, finally letting the corners of his lips pull upwards as he studied the patterns. His hands shook as he reached out to trace the design of the guard with a finger, afraid that he might break it with his touch, despite having had a death grip on it a while ago for half an hour on his way home.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, almost inaudible when he finally picked up the weapon again by the handle, the image of the mythical ______ carved into the wood. It takes some effort to loosen the guard but the blade comes out cleanly despite the obvious signs of aging on its dulled edges. “(description of what zyx did to deserve the seal, massacre?)”, he read each character breathlessly as the guard pulled away. “He shall be condemned to 1500 years in the  Realm of Reflection where he shall see no sun and feel no warmth. May his judgement be__absolute?_____.” The blade rings low for a long moment when Kris finally pulls it completely free of its guard and he shivers at the sound. “After seven years, to think I’d find you in a shoddy shop, selling for  _ pennies _ .” He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head as he sheathed the sword and set it back on the table once more. 

[checks all his references that this IS the blade he is looking for, and he gets carried away re-reading the legends and he falls asleep on the couch, gets woken up in the middle of the night by an unidentified loud noise and he finds that there is some stranger in his home.]

Kris stepped out of his bedroom the next morning with the back of his hand covering his wide yawn before it was unceremoniously ripped away. Still trying to blink away the sleep, he barely registered the unknown force grabbing him by the shirt until he had his cheek pressed painfully against his wall, one arm twisted behind his back. The other arm remained free above his head, but the cold metal pressed into his neck kept it in place.

“Who are you?” an unfamiliar voice demanded in a language Kris hadn’t used in over a decade, breath hot against Kris’ ear; his attacker was out of breath for some reason.

Adrenaline coursed through Kris’ body when he finally  woke up enough to realise there was a burglar in his apartment with a knife, threatening his life. 

“Answer me!” the voice thundered, agitation evident in his tone as the blade held steady at his captive’s neck.

Kris always struggled in the Chinese classes his mother forced him to take as a child and ten years of no practice had not helped his proficiency at the language. “L-look, just… just take what you want and leave, alright? I don’t want any trouble,” he managed to string together in broken phrases.

A low growl tickled at the ends of his hair, “I can’t, it won’t let me.”

“W-what?” 

“ _ Who are you?!” _ the assaulter repeated with more urgency, tightening his grip on Kris’ wrist, his fingernails digging deep into the raw skin.

Kris let out a groan and had to blink back a couple of tears as all the muscles in his arm strained further under the added pressure from his assailant. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself but the feel of his skin expanding against the knife of his neck sent him into another bout of panic. “Yifan! I’m Wu Yifan!” he supplied, using the birth name he hadn’t used in years, hoping that answering the question might placate his unwanted guest. 

“Wu Yifan,” the man tried slowly, syllables rolling on his tongue as if he was trying to decide how he felt about the name. “Wu,” he repeated, as if the surname disgusted him. “This is not the house of Zhang?” 

“Uhm, no?” Kris answered in a matter-of-fact tone, something he regretted when the blade dug deeper into his neck.

There was a painfully long moment of silence before the man spoke once more, “Alright,  _ Wu Yifan, _ ” he hissed, pulling Kris away from the wall and thrusting him in the direction of the living room. 

Kris allowed himself a deep breath, hand coming up to his neck and pulling away wet with his own blood. Swallowing to keep himself from throwing up, he moved his hand to his neck once more and sighed with relief when a second check confirmed the cut was only skin deep. With another deep breath that did little to calm his nerves, he finally turned his head to get a look at his uninvited guest. For the first time since being held hostage in his own home, Kris could see his attacker and he nearly fell to his knees in alarm. The man’s long hair was a messy frame around his dirty face, his eyes dark as if he hadn’t slept in days. The most remarkable feature though, was the fact that he was dressed in ancient _______, as if he’d just been pulled from some documentary on ____some chinese war____. 

The oddly clad man gestured with the steak knife but Kris was too startled by the image in front of him that he didn’t react, forcing the stranger to grab around his elbow and drag him towards the living room. “That sword over there. How did you come upon it?”

“Sword? What sword?” Kris answered blankly before realizing that the man was pointing at his purchase from less than twelve hours ago, sitting on his coffee table where he left it last night. He was going to make a sarcastic comment about minding one’s business but he eyed the steak knife still in the assailant’s hand and pointed at him. “Oh, that sword. I, uh, I bought it last night at some store down town,” he explained, figuring it would be in his best interest not to lie to an armed man. 

“You…  _ purchased _ me?” the man asked incredulously, his grip tightening around Kris’ elbow as his voice climbed in volume. “Do you mean to say that they  _ sold _ me like a commoner’s trinket?!”

“Sold you? What are you talking about…?” Kris’ voice trailed into nothing as his gazez jumped from the strange man standing in his living room wearing some bizarre looking clothing to the sword sitting on the coffee table. “Wait, you’re  _ him _ ,” he realized in amazement, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You’re, uhm,” he paused, trying to recall the Chinese name that had been given in the legends. “You’re  The Destroyer ,” he recalled, elated that there was truth in all the stories.

The man’s head snapped around, eyes narrowed into a menacing glare that sent a shiver down Kris’ spine. “Don’t ever call me that,” he spat, bringing the knife up so that its tip was a hair’s width away from Kris’ nose.

“O-okay,” Kris stumbled a step backwards, free arm coming up behind his head in the universal sign for  surrender . “I’m sorry. What  _ should _ I call you then?”

The man seemed to hesitate, eyes flickering side to side as if studying Kris and trying to decide if he trusted him. It felt like hours but he finally release his grip around Kris’ elbow and slowly lowered the knife to his side. “My name is Zhang Yixing. That sword belongs to me and I demand that you return it to the  Cavern of The Seven Sisters so that the seal may be lifted properly.”

“Uhm,” Kris swallowed hard, excitement bubbling under his skin at the living legend standing in front of him, “Okay, first off,  _ wow. _ I can’t believe you’re actually real and  _ standing in my living room _ . And second, I have no idea what you mean by ‘ Cavern of ______ ’.” He dropped his hands to his sides once more, leaning over to catch himself on his couch. “And third, uhm, looks like the seal is already lifted, what with you being able to hold a knife to my throat,” he added bitterly.

“Of course I am real. Your living room? Is this where you  _ live? _ ” He asked incredulously, though not pausing long enough for Kris to answer, “The Cavern is where those damn sorcerers sealed me into my sword and it is only there that the seal can be fully lifted. I have reacquired my physical form, but it appears I am still bound to my sword; I cannot travel more than fifty feet from it. Unfortunately, it seems I cannot pick it up either, which mean I am anchored here… _ where exactly  _ is _ here? _ ”

“That’s, uh, wow, um, this is a lot to take in,” Kris admitted, noting that the distance from the coffee table to his room door was just shy of fifty feet. “You mind if I sit down a second?” he asked, eyeing the knife warily. Zhang Yixing bit his bottom lip but nodded slowly, leaning over the throw the steak knife upright into the wooden surface of the coffee table. Kris couldn’t help the involuntary flinch; the table was several centuries old and now there was a giant hole in it. “Great,” he mumbled in English under his breath as he settled into the left-most seat of the couch, “Who doesn’t appreciate  17 th century/Victorian furniture with a knife sticking out of it?”

“Are you a sorcerer?” Zhang Yixing asked, taking a step back defensively moving to grab the knife again.

“No! That was English. That’s the language we speak here.”

“Where is ‘here’?”

“Canada. We’re in Canada. Vancouver to be precise, but I doubt that means anything to you.”

“Ca-na-da,” Zhang Yixing experimented. “Is it part of the Chinese empire?”

Kris chuckled, “No, it’s uhm,” he fumbled, not sure how to explain how different things are from fifteen hundred years ago. “China’s kinda far from where we are right now,” he decided to settle with. 

“I must return to China,” Zhang Yixing announced. 

“Slow down there, alright? China’s like a  ____ hour plane ride,  _ at least _ . And you don’t even have a passport, so that’s clearly not going to be an option.”

“Plane? Passport? What are these strange things you speak of? Just strap my sword to a horse and I will find my way home myself.”

Kris couldn’t help but snort, “A  _ horse _ ? You want to cross an ocean  _ on a horse?! _ ”

“Ocean?” Zhang Yixing’s eyes widened and Kris could almost see the panic in them, “Where exactly am I?!”

“Like I said, China’s kinda far from here,” Kris answered in as soothing a tone as he could muster; he didn’t want the find of a century freak out and stab him to death in a fit of panic. “Why don’t you just take a seat for now?” he gestured at the seat at the other end of his couch. There was another long moment of hesitation but Zhang Yixing finally lowered himself onto the couch, albeit very stiffly. “So, this Cavern of Wicked Voodoo,” Kris started.

“Cavern of _____,” Zhang Yixing corrected.

“Alright,  _ Cavern of _____ _ ,” Kris repeated, rolling his eyes, “You said it’s in China?”

“Correct. It sits in the heart of the Forest of ______ at the top of the Mountain of Despair, surrounded by the Garden of a Thousand ____some flower___ and is protected by the Guardian of __________.”

Kris opened and closed his mouth several times in disbelief, speechless at the elaborate names, “The Mountain of Despair?”

“Correct.”

Kris had to laugh at the serious tone of Zhang Yixing’s voice, “I’m sorry, but I  _ seriously _ doubt that we’re going to have any luck with those names.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. We shall trek up the mountain, traverse the Forest and find the Cavern of-”

“Yes, yes, the Cavern of _____,” Kris interrupted, “I heard you the first fifty times. The problem is that there is no map on this earth that’s going to be labeled with ‘The Cavern of _____’.”

“A map? What do you need a map for? I know the way.”

Kris sighed. “Looks, I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s been fifteen hundred years. Things have changed.”

“I will still know the way,” Zhang Yixing refuted stubbornly. 

“Really? Have you tried looking out the window?”

“Window?”

Kris got to his feet once more and started towards the other end of the room, flinging open his curtains and gesturing for his guest to join him. Zhang Yixing gave him a skeptical look from the couch but moved towards Kris, falling to his  butt and scrambling backwards frantically when he looked through the glass. “What black magic is this?!”

“We’re twenty floors up,” Kris explained in a bored tone, offering a hand to pull the other to his feet. “Like I said, things have changed. A lot.”

Zhang Yixing looked up at Kris with horror deep in his features as his eyes jumped skittishly between Kris and the window as he struggled to his feet once more. “I don’t understand…” he muttered, inching towards Kris cautiously. “How can this be possible?”

Kris’ eyebrows stitched together as he frowned, not sure he was ready to explain the entirety of the world’s history to this man. Deciding that it was most likely a rhetorical question in the first place, he wandered back to his coffee table and took the offending knife out of its surface. “Maybe you should just get some rest. I’ve got to get to work so I can’t really afford to spend my entire day explaining to you how an elevator works.”

“An ‘elevator’?”

“My point exactly,” Kris remarked, rolling his eyes again as he headed into his kitchen to put the knife away before going to his fridge. “Are you hungry? Did they feed you in the…  _ wherever _ you were?”

“ ’The Realm of Reflection’ ,” Zhang Yixing supplied, “And no. My soul was displaced from its body and I did not feel hunger for the duration of my imprisonment. However, it does appear that I have regained my physical form…” he trailed.

Kris pulled his head out of his fridge and gave the man a blank look, “So… that’s a yes to scrambled eggs then?”

“You own hens?” Zhang Yixing asked in surprise, “I didn’t see them when I first searched this strange place.”

“Uh… no…” Kris answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes yet again. “I bought these at the store.” He ducked back behind the door to grab the carton of eggs. Placing the carton on the counter, he let the fridge door close by itself as he reached into a lower cabinet to grab a clean pan. When he turned around to his stove, he nearly dropped it in alarm, jumping at the sight of Yixing staring at him curiously. “Jesus, don’t just sneak up on me like that.”

“I apologize if I alarmed you. I merely meant to learn of _____”

Kris tried his best to smile, putting down the pan and grabbing Zhang Yixing lightly by the arm and guiding him away from the kitchen. “How about a nice shower while I make breakfast, hmm?” he suggested, opening the door to his bathroom. “You really need to change out of… whatever it is you’re wearing.”

“Alright, but what are we doing in this strange room? Where is the nearest lake?” 

Instead of giving a reply, Kris let go of Zhang Yixing to open the shower stall door and turn the dial to where he liked the temperature. To his amusement, Zhang Yixing’s face spelled disbelief and awe once more as he stared at the shower head in dumb astonishment. “Right. I’ll grab some of my clothes for you to change into once you’re done. Might be a little big, but anything’s better than what you’re wearing right now.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Kris sighed, responding only by pushing Zhang Yixing further into the bathroom as he backed out of it, closing the door, “Left is hot, right is cold!” he yelled through the door, hoping that it was enough instruction as he headed into his bedroom, shaking his head as he opened his closet doors. As he stood contemplating what might fit the smaller male, a loud yelp erupted from the bathroom and Yifan couldn’t help laughing out loud when a string of ‘hothothothot!’ could be heard over the running water. The shouting stopped a few seconds later, and Yifan had to assume that Zhang Yixing figured out the controls on his own.


	14. Top of the Food Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lay wanders off where he shouldn't and Yifan breaks his family's rules to keep him alive. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: human ownership, unhealthy and abusive family relationships, really bad layout and incomprehensible wording/organization (no seriously, you guys don't want to see my "creative process", it's all over the place)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno what this is. Honestly, I woke up one day wondering what a vampire au crossed with a slave au would end up like. I ended up building a messy world with not a lot to back it up. I have no idea how to fix it (been trying for a while to no avail) so it's just going to be one of those things I just have to shelve. I was really hoping to figure this out cus I enjoy combining cliched tropes that I don't really like and seeing where it takes me, but in this case, it just took me over a cliff. The only half logical direction I could take this would be do some major character death but it also made zero sense with how the characters had developed. So. Here it is. Just a mess of words.

**Prologue**

Every fibre of his being told him to turn around, that this was a bad idea. He could barely put one foot in front of the other, his knees threatening to buckle any moment now. His lips were cracked from days without water, the skin around his knuckles cracked and bloody. His clothes he wore could barely be called that: the threading was coming apart at the shoulder so that the sleeve pulled away to reveal the dry skin underneath, the cuffs of the sweater were riddled with holes, a product of his nervous habit, and the zipper up the middle was broken halfway up.

 

A wind rustled through the corn fields in front of him and made him shiver. He drew the top part of his sweat closed and pulled the hood closed around his neck.

 

The voice of his dead mother screamed in his head as he stepped in between two stalks, now browned from the harvest, “Under no circumstance should you enter or even go near a farm.”

 

“I’m sorry, mum. But I’m just so hungry,” he murmured out loud, willing his feet to move forward. The soil was cool as it pressed up through the gaps between his toes, leaves crunching quietly as he brushed past them.

 

He barely made it twenty steps before the strength in his legs finally gave up on him and the ground came hurtling towards his face. He landed with a loud curse, the tall plants around him rustling as he took them down with him. With a laboured groan, he rolled onto his back, eyes heavy as he stared at the blue sky above him, wondering if he could just nap here for a while, ‘Just five minutes.’

 

As his eyelids started to close, a rustle somewhere behind his head made them snap open again, his heart suddenly racing as he tried to determine the source. The heavy footfalls and resultant rustling of dying corn stalks made him sure that certain it was no small rodent. The certainty and _____ made him panic. ‘Shit, this was definitely a bad idea.’

 

With what adrenaline his body could send through his veins after so many days without food, he scrambled to his feet, tripping twice before he could stand up properly. The footsteps behind him picked up and before he made it five steps back where he came from, a voice called out, “Well, well. What have we here?”

 

Frozen with fear, he swallowed hard against the nervous lump in his throat.

 

“A Stray?” the voice asked, its owner clearly (bewildered) at the discovery.

 

‘I’m sorry, mum, I should’ve listened,’ he managed to think to himself before his eyelids fell closed and he collapsed to the ground once more.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Yifan chewed on his thumbnail nervously as he watched the human sleep, the latter's chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Brow furrowed, looked away only long enough to check his watch, swallowing hard when he realised his father would be coming around to do his morning rounds soon. He wondered idly whether he'd made the right decision to keep this man alive instead of killing him on sight. What was he going to tell his father? 'Oh hey dad, just so you know, I caught a stray last night and I decided to keep him because of his face.'? "Yeah, that'll go over well," he grumbled to himself, eyes closing as he brought his hands up to rub at his temples. "Father is going to kill me."

 

"Master Yifan?"

 

The voice behind him made his eyes fly open and he turned around abruptly in alarm before relaxing when he recognized the Wu Residence butler, eyes wide with just as must surprise as Yifan's own. "How is he, Xiumin?" he asked, turning back around, gaze returning to the unconscious figure in his locked cell, an IV needle attached to the back of his hand.

 

There was a brief pause before Yifan turned around to glare at Xiumin, prompting the latter to clear his throat as an embarrassed flush coloured his cheeks. "The stray?" he asked before immediately dropping his head in apology when Yifan's look hardened. He cleared his throat once more, "My apologies, Master Yifan," he started, his nervousness evident in the way his voice cracked, "The, er, guest is… recovering. He was severely dehydrated when you brought his in. Malnourished as well, though that's to be expected given his-" he stopped himself abruptly in mid-sentence.

 

'Smart,' Yifan thought to himself. In his current distressed mood, he wasn't sure what sort of punishment he'd assign the butler for finishing his thought.

 

"He also desperately needs a bath," Xiumin continued, "but I can't risk moving him yet in his current condition."

 

Yifan stared at the unconscious human, frowning at patches (could he even call them patches given how far they stretched?) of dirt that covered nearly every inch of skin. His jaw clenched as his gaze moved up towards the human's face, 'What are you doing, Yifan?' he wondered, swallowing hard when his heart skipped a beat without warning. He hand gripped at his chest for a moment before he forced himself to turn away. "When he's well enough, have him moved to the northern wing," he ordered, heading towards the exit.

 

"You means he's to be-?" Xiumin started to ask before Yifan cut him off.

 

"Just do as you're told," Yifan snapped, slamming the door to the _____ quarters as he left.

**Tagged/Branded**

When he opened his eyes, it was to a faint feeling of nausea and a stinging in his ear. When he moved his hand to feel the sore spot, a sudden sharp pain in his hand stopped him. “What the?” he whispered to himself when an inspection revealed a needle inserted into the back of his hand, connected to a narrow tubing that lead to an empty plastic bag hanging off a hook on the wall beside. He narrowed his eyes as he read the lettering: 0.9% SODIUM CHLORIDE. The term seemed familiar but he couldn’t quite place it at the moment and he spent no time wondering where he’d seen the term before; he was more concerned about the wall with the hook that reached up from the edge of whatever he was lying on. And the wall adjacent to it, and the wall opposite him, each the same dull grey colour. “Wha-?” he breathed out, drawing upright and inspecting the bed he was in, a hard metal frame in the corner of what appeared to be a poorly lit room.

 

“Looks like sleepy-head’s finally awake.”

 

The voice made his head snap to his right where it took him a long moment to realise the three walls made of concrete were joined by a fourth made of metal bars. It was another long moment before he realized he was in a cell, and that there was a lock on what must be the only way in or out of it. With panicked realisation of where he was, his breaths became short as he watched the walls start to close in around him.

 

“Deep breaths, newbie. In and out.”

 

He’d forgotten about the voice in his panic and he turned to the barred exit once more with wide eyes. A man with dark hard watched him through two sets of bars, arms moving up and down, motioning for his audience to dark repeated deep breaths.

 

“In and out,” the stranger repeated, round eyes stern.

 

He closed his eyes tightly, trying profusely to do as the man was suggesting, but his lungs fought valiantly.

 

“In and out,” came the voice again, now a repeating mantra in these new, strange, and most importantly, threatening surroundings.

 

‘Panic’s not going to get you anywhere. Step back and gather your bearings,’ his father’s voice said calming in his head.

 

“In and out.”

 

He focused on the stranger’s voice, finally managing to matching his instruction after several minutes.

 

“Feel better?” the stranger asked.

 

“Yeah,” he managed, opening his eyes once more to find the walls had stopped moving. He took another deep breath and glanced up at the plastic bag hanging of the wall. ‘Sodium chloride,’ he thought to himself, finally remembering his father’s teachings, ‘Saltwater.’ He looked down to his left hand and flexed his right hand a couple times to steady the shaking. He peeled back the tape and carefully pulled the needle out. With a wince, he rubbed the tiny spot of red that formed as the needle pulled out repeatedly until the bleeding finally stopped. “Where are we?” he asked when he finally turned his attention back to his stranger.

 

A smirk formed on the man’s face, “Wu Residence.”

 

He swung his legs around and over the edge of the bed. He placed his heels on the cold floor and cautiously shifted his weight to his legs, finding he had more strength in them than he’s expected when he found himself upright with little resistance. “How’d I get here?”

 

A laugh echoed against the walls, “Now that is a story I’d love to hear myself.”

 

He turned to face his stranger properly, finger wrapping cautiously around the bars that housed him, giving them a hard shake as if by some miracle, they weren’t locked like he’d feared. No such luck. Now that he was up and away from his bed, he realised his cell wasn’t the only one. Besides the one that housed his stranger, there seemed to be an endless line of identical metal doors that stretched out on either side of him. His breathing picked up again and he had to focus once more on getting it even once more.

 

“I’m Xiumin, by the way,” the stranger announced with a smile.

 

He stared blankly at the ‘Xiumin’ before realising that those expectant eyes meants he was waiting for the introduction to be returned. “I’m,” he started, eyebrows furrowing together. He hadn’t used his name in years, having been alone since his parents passed, and it was a long moment before he recalled it. “Lay,” he finished awkwardly. “My name is Lay,” he repeated, though the word still seemed foreign. “Yeah, Lay.”

 

Xiumin raised an eyebrow, obvious amusement in his features, “Yeah, I got it the first time,” he chuckled. “You’re a Stray right?”

 

Lay grimaced at the term, disliking how it made him sound like an animal. He didn’t answer, looking away and down at the lock, wondering if he might be able to use the needle he’d pulled out of the back of his hand to work it open.

 

“How are you still alive?”

 

Lay looked up wearing a glare, “Excuse me?”

 

“I meant no disrespect,” Xiumin explained, “But Strays are dealt with promptly in the Wu Residence. Their bodies are disposed of before the daily reports are made up. And yet here you are, tagged and nursed back to life as if you were one of theirs.”

 

“Tagged?” Lay asked, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion.

 

Xiumin pointed once to his left ear, prompting Lay to bring his hand up to find a metal ring hugging the upper lobe of left ear, ‘That explains the stinging, I guess,’ he concluded, realising he’d forgotten about it in his earlier panic.

 

“Means you belong to a House, in this case, the Wu’s,” Xiumin explained as Lay squinted at the narrow blank band around Xiumin’s ear, barely making out gold markings along its length.

 

“Were you like me?” Lay asked carefully.

 

“You mean a Stray?” Xiumin clarified, eliciting another grimace from Lay that the other didn’t seem to notice. “Course not,” he chuckled, crossing his arms, “Like I said, Strays pretty much get put down on sight. I’ve been here my entire life, born and raised by our dear Master Wu.”

 

Lay’s teeth ground together painfully as he recalled his father’s bitter words, ‘What’s left of us have fallen into disrepute, bred in captivity and liking it like it was normal. They’re more pets than humans. Born from a test tube and not a mother.’ He stared at the smiling man across from him for a long moment before letting out a sigh and stepping back towards his bed. He leaned over and picked up the needled he’d tossed to the ground before lying back onto the metal frame. He held the needle over his head, playing with the pointed end before sleep took him over once more.

 

***

 

The next time Lay opened his eyes, he found himself to yet another unfamiliar scene. His back was not cold and sore from the metal frame. The walls weren’t grey, but a sky blue, and significantly further away than he’d remembered. And was that… a window?

 

“You’ve woken,” a deep voice greeted, and for a moment, Lay assumed it belonged to D.O before he registered it as the voice he’d heard back in the corn field. The voice that had laughed at him before he woke up in a locked called and a new tag. The voice that had made him freeze in place just as it was doing now.

 

There was a creak of someone getting out of a chair and then some barely audible footfalls before Lay found himself staring at a pair of red irises, framed by strong eyebrows. “I heard you woke up in a panic last night. I apologize for that, you were never meant to see the inside of that cell.”

 

The reminder of the state he’d woken to last time broke him from his frozen state, sitting up fully and bringing his left hand to inspect for another needle before he noticed the soft sheets that fell away from him as he moved.

 

“That was temporary,” the deep voice continued to explain, “You weren’t responsive and it was the easiest way to get you… better. Now that you’re awake, I can have our cooks whip something up for you, what would you like?”

 

Lay stared at the bed he now sat in, turning to narrow his eyes at the pile of pillows he was leaning against before running the sheets between his fingers.

 

“Xiumin tells me your name is Lay?” the deep voice continued, an obvious attempt to get Lay to turn his focus to him. “You can call me Yifan.”

 

Lay flinched at the sound of his name on the lips of a dead man and he knew immediately that he would not be addressing this monster with a name. In fact, he refused to address the monster at all. The mere existence of the homo mortuus was an abomination. This thing was a ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’, as his mother would’ve put it, and Lay would not let a name fool him into thinking this vampire was anything remotely human; they lost their humanity the moment the died and came back to life.

 

***

 

“You’re my guest here.”

 

Lay pursed his lips, continuing to stare at the (demon) man without replying. He felt his teeth grind together painfully as he glared at the figure seated in a chair in the corner of the spacious room.

 

With a sigh of defeat, the vampire got to his feet and headed for the room door, opening it and slipping through it. A moment later, he returned with Xiumin at his side. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said softly, throwing a (meaningful) glance towards Xiumin before he left the room and closed the door behind him quietly.

 

Lay’s attention turned to Xiumin, who was wearing an annoyingly large smile on his face. “Seems you’ve moved up in the world,” he chuckled, making his way around the room to another door and opening it to a closet that made Lay sit up properly. He turned to glare jokingly at Lay, “Well, you going to lie in bed all day, or are you going to get up and let me give you the grand tour?”

 

Lay raised an eyebrow in alarm and Xiumin rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of him, “No seriously, get up.”

 

Lay sighed, but pulled the sheets away, trying not to think about how nice the silk felt against his skin; he was a prisoner here.

 

"You move at the speed of a snail," Minseok remarked, a playful grin on his face as he reached into the closet and pulled out a couple articles and tossing them at Lay. "Get changed."

 

Lay caught the clothes clumsily, one of the pant legs dragging along the floor. "Why? Do prisoners need to look pretty for their captors?" he asked sarcastically as he gathered the pants into his chest, standing in the center of his room awkwardly as he watched Minseok wander the the bed and pull the linens straight across the bed.

 

"Well if you're ever hoping to get bought, you can't look like you spent the last ten years rolling in dirt."

 

"Bought?" Lay asked.

 

"How else are you going to find a nice master to take you in?"

 

Lay groaned, "Right, how could I forget," he muttered under his breath as he dropped the clothes in his arms to the ground.

 

"But I hardly think you have to worry about that, though," Minseok continued, clearly not having heard what was said. "I imagine the Young Master will keep you for himself."

 

"Say what?" Lay shot back through his pajama shirt, pulled halfway over his head and muffling his voice. There was a silence as he pulled the rest of the shirt off to turn to Minseok, who had frozen in place over the bed with an unreadable expression across his features. "Minseok?" he prompted.

 

"Oh, uhm," Minseok hesitated, "It's nothing. Just gossip."

 

“Gossip?” Lay asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

 

Minseok seemed to squirm uneasily, his conflicted expression giving away his hesitance to share his knowledge. It was a long moment before Minseok continued with a stuttering answer. “Well, it’s… it’s just some of us are, er, how do I put this?” He paused, trying to find the proper words to explain what he was thinking, “Well, they’re of the opinion that Young Master Yifan has… taken a liking to you.”

 

“A what?” Lay returned sharply in alarm.

 

Minseok flinched slightly, “Given that you weren’t… you know… immediately disposed of, some of the humans have come up with… theories.”

 

Lay frowned as he picked up the shirt from the pile at his feet. He looked up to see Minseok eyeing him carefully, biting his lip as if contemplating if he should elaborate further. Deciding he didn’t care; he was getting out of this place at the earliest opportunity, anyway. His stomach grumbled as he pulled the shirt over his head. ‘Maybe after I find something to eat first,’ he thought to himself. “I don’t care,” he mumbled as he pulled his head through the hole in the shirt.

 

Minseok seemed to breath out a sigh of relief, continuing to pull the sheets on the bed straight and propping up the pillows and a manner that intrigued Lay; the whole process seemed silly to him.

 

When Lay had pulled his pants on, Minseok lead him out the door, the former trailing behind, cautiously taking in his surroundings as the pair stepped into a long hallway.

 

**Stockholm Syndrome**

Sleep eluded Lay that first night; the silk sheets of the bed were cool against the summer heat but terrifying unfamiliar, the pillows soft but uncomfortable. He’d grown up sleeping on the hard ground and, on the rare occasion where his family wandered into an abandoned home with a bed, the mattress was lumpy; the squishy mattress under him hugged his body and Lay felt like he was drowning in it. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the sounds of the night, looking for the chirping of crickets, the hooting of owls, the flapping wings of bats looking for a meal. The only thing that greeted Lay’s ears was complete silence save for the quiet rustling of the linens as he tossed and turned.

 

Lay flipped onto his back with a huff, staring up at the ceiling, watching the trees outside his window dance with the moon behind them but without the comforting sound of their leaves rustling in the wind. He sighed heavily, wondering for a brief moment whether he’d get in trouble for dragging the silk sheets onto the floor to sleep instead of the bed. He frowned at the thought, annoyed that despite only been here for a day, he was concerned about dirtying silk linens. He sat up straight and threw them off of him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked himself before sliding until his feet could touch the cool hardwood floor, boards creaking when he put his full weight on them. He stood frozen for a second as the sounds echoed off the walls of his room, listening for the sound of anyone stiring, perhaps a guard outside his room door, but he could discern nothing from his awkward position next to the bed. Letting out a long breath of relief, Lay stepped carefully towards the door, pulling a sweater off the back of it and pulling it over his head before turning the knob slowly, careful not to make a sound.

 

The door pulled open easily and Lay slipped into the dark hallway with squinted eyes, as it that might help his poor night vision. With his hands on the wall as he took careful steps forward, he managed to make his way to the staircase and he descended them slowly, fingers gripping around the railing for fear of rolling down and hurting himself, or worse, causing a racket to wake his keepers. As he reached the bottom floor, a quiet panic settled in the pit of his stomach as he realised he had no idea where in the giant Wu mansion he was and what direction would lead him towards the exit. He worried his bottom lip for a moment before he decided he’d have to figure it out, because he wasn’t about to go back into that horrifying room that didn’t belong to him. He looked to his left and took a deep breath as he reahed out in front of him again; if he stuck to the walls, he was sure to find the end eventually.

 

What felt like a lifetime later, Yixing’s fingers finally found a doorframe, and then a door that felt distinctly different from the three he’d gone through on his way here. With barely contained glee, he reached down for the handle, grinning to himself when it turned without resistance. He stepped into the night with a smile, though slightly surprised that he’d actually made it out without being found out.

 

His joy was shortlived though, when his eyes fell to the steps in front of the porch where the oldest Wu son was seated, his head turning to look up at Lay in surprise. Every muscle in Lay’s body tensed and he swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

 

“Oh, out for a walk?”

 

Lay’s jaw clenched tightly and he kept his mouth closed, cursing his luck; he was so close.

 

***

 

Yifan turned around in alarm at the sound of the door opening behind him; at this hour, his father should be in his study, tallying his profits of the day and his younger brother should be holed up in his room with that pet of his. But instead of finding a family member in the doorway, he found Lay instead. Excitement at the idea that

 

For a brief moment, Yifan was excited at the thought that the human was finally joining him by choice, but the feeling was fleeting, quickly replaced with disappointment with the realisation that Lay had just been attempting to run away. The human wore a look of _____, clearly upset that Yifan had thwarted his efforts.

 

Yifan swallowed and managed to pull a smile, "Can't sleep?" he asked conversationally, pretending he hadn't just caught a human committing a crime. It wasn't a common occurrence, but on the rare occasion, any human property of a residence was sentenced to death if found attempting to run away.

 

As expected, Lay provided not reply, though his expression settled back into the familiar grimace of loathing that Yifan had strangely gotten accustomed to in the last twenty-four hours. Yifan eyed the fists balled on either side of the human and reminded himself that it was his own damn fault that this man was trying to leave in the first place. He cleared his throat and shifted sideways on the porch steps, patting the now-empty space beside him. "Join me?" he asked, meaning it to be a friendly invitation but judging by the barely concealed scowl on Lay's face, it was received as a threat instead. Nonetheless, the human filled the empty space next to Yifan, refusing the meet the vampire's eye though, opting instead to stare at the night sky in stubborn determination.

 

The pair sat in silecen for a long moment before Yifan cleared his throat, making the latter jump when the vampire reached a hand towards the sky. He made a circulate motion with his pointer finger around a line-up of three stars overhead. "That's Orion's Belt," he said, mostly to fill the silence between them.

 

"Everyone knows Orion's belt," the human grumbled, barely above a whisper and Yifan might've missed it if he hadn't been so eager for any kind of response. The surprising comment sent the vampire's eyebrows into his forehead before a smile spread itself across his face. Lay's voice was deeper than Yifan expected, but simply hearing the man speak (even if it was under his breath) warmed his chest.

 

"Ah, he speaks," Yifan joked, pulling his hand back to himself when he remembered he was still holding it up and pointing at the sky.

 

Under the light of the near-full moon, Yifan could see Lay's face flush before he turned away and got to his feet abruptly. There was a pause while Lay stood motionless, as if contemplating the potential repercussions of leaving the company of a vampire without the latter's express permission. Clearly deciding that he would rather face them than to continue the charade with Yifan, the human frowned down at his company before spinning on his heel and storming back into the house, even managing to slam the door behind him. Despite being so blatantly ignored and disrespected by a human, a laugh bubbled up through his lips. "I look forward to our next chat, Lay!" he called loudly at the door, with no guarantee that the human even heard him.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Lay waited several days before his second attempt, spending his days exploring the house to get a better idea of its layout in preparation. He spent most of his nights awake with anxiety, unable to sleep properly for fear of a vampire suddenly preying on him despite Yifan assuring him that he would be left alone; he couldn’t trust a vampire afterall.

 

When the weather forecast called for a long night of torrential rain, Lay saw his chance. He'd learned quickly that the heads of household had much keener senses than he'd initially assumed, given that somehow, whenever Lay found himself in a part of the mansion clearly not meant for him, Xiumin always came to retrieve him, 'on orders from Master Yifan'.

 

"What am I allowed to do then?" Lay had asked once, but Xiumin had simply shrugged.

 

"Anything you'd like," Xiumin had answered unhelpfully, "Just not here."

 

The human lay awake on his bed, as he'd done for several nights now, staring at the ceiling and playing with the cuff around his ear. The swelling had gone down significantly since the initial piercing and the pain now was just a dull throb. He'd tried on several occasions to remove the thing entirely but he only succeeded in bloodying his face and fingers and causing himself a great deal of pain the one time he considered simply ripping it out forcefully. The thing was an abomination, a affront to his existence, a physical (_____) that reminded him that he was no longer a free man, despite what Xiumin kept saying.

 

As soon as the rain began pelting the sides of his walls though, he sat up abruptly, the bed frame creaking in the slightest from the shift in weight as he pulled himself off it and made for the window. He could barely see anything outside, but he found what he was looking for: a steady pattering against the pane that slowly built up to a loud (____)ing that drew long strings of water down the glass. A smile crept onto his lips and he hurried back, reaching out for the drawer on the bedside table instead. He pulled out a wrinkled napkin with his rough drawings of the layout of the mansion scribbled messily across it. He grabbed a sweater from the closet and threw it on in a rush, stuffing the napkin in one of the pockets before picking up the flashlight he'd stolen from the _____ room and hidden under the _________.

 

Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle carefully and stepped out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

The fake ground of the __#__ greenhouse felt cold underneath Yifan, despite his natural resistance to temperature variations. It was hard and uneven, thoroughly uncomfortable and definitely not somewhere anyone would choose to rest, but combined with his intense focus on counting every drop of rain that hit the roof, it was enough to keep him distracted. Try as he might though, he could still hear every step taken by a certain human back at the mansion, could still feel the soft vibrations it sent through the dirt despite being more than a kilometer away. Yifan ground his teeth together, hoping, praying, that it would be loud enough to drown out the human's faint ragged breathing. He breathes in deeply, restarting his count, acknowledging the futility but forcing himself none the less. He was vaguely aware of his nails digging into his palm, a dull stinging as they broke the skin there.

 

As eldest son, he should really go after the human who was clearly about to make a break for it again. After all, Lay was now the properly of the Wu Household and it was Yifan's responsibility to assure all of their assets were in good order, which included ensuring that none of it was simply walking away.

 

Despite the situation though, Yifan smiled, mildly impressed with Lay's methods, choosing tonight and using the cover of the thunderstorm to hide his movements. Might've even worked if Yifan wasn't already so attuned to Lay's biometrics.

 

 

 

***

 

The droplets hits him like ice, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he squinted through the sheets of rain, searching for the break in the fence he'd discovered on one of his wandering trips during the past week. More specifically, he was looking for the tall oak tree west of the Wu mansion, half uprooted with most of its branches missing.

 

"Dammit," he swore to himself; the tree should've been an obvious landmark but the rain was making it difficult to locate, despite its obvious presentation when the sun was out.

 

Lay shivered, brushing away the strands of hair dripping into his eyes just as his foot caught on something hard and he felt himself falling forwards. He immediately flung his arms out to break his fall but the mud was slippery and he landed on his left wrist awkwardly, sending him face first into the ground, teeth coming down on his tongue painfully. He let out a loud whine but quickly hushed himself; the rain was cover, but who knew how good the damn monsters' hearing actually was.

 

It took him a long moment but Lay managed to get to his feet again, weighted down by an extra layer of mud. He stumbled several steps before he managed to stand up properly and found himself facing the silhouette of the Wu mansion, the soft glow from several of its windows breaking through the torrential downpour. He found himself hesitating to turn around to look for that tree again; the Wu mansion was at least warm, and loathed as he was to admit it, there was a second he'd been hungry since his arrival in this place.

 

His foot pulled forward in the dirt an inch before he stopped himself, fists clenching at his side as his teeth ground painfully together. No. That would be what they wanted, to make humans complacent in their own enslavement. With a reminder to himself that he'd managed to survive years without the so called help of demons, he forced himself to turn around, trying to remember in what direction the rotting tree lay.

 

***

 

Yifan paced the length of the greenhouse, having moved from lying on the ground to a position that allowed him to work off his anxiety a little better. The moment he'd heard the sound of Lay's wrist cracking under the weight of its owner, the vampire had been restless. He immediately wanted to be at the human's side, to check the fracture, to bring him back into the safety of the mansion and it was taking every ounce of his self control not to. His selfishness had already ruined the human's life once, and he couldn't let it happen again; if Lay wanted to leave, Yifan should let him go. He chewed on a fingernail with his eyes pressed tightly closed as he listened to Lay run again, the sound of his movements muffled by the sound of splashing whenever the human took a step in the mud.

 

He heard the sound of the chain link fence being pulled away and the distinct ow! when the human caught himself on the sharp end of an exposed wire.

 

Yifan smiled. It was over now. He'd have to endure his father's wrath yet again, but at least Lay was free, as he should've been from the beginning.

 

***

 

Lay felt a smile pull onto his face as he finally freed himself from fence. He felt a warmth down his right arm to his injured wrist and he knew without looking that he'd knicked himself on one of the sharp wires. He swallowed hard and immediately threw the opposite hand across what he could see of the cut in the dim moonlight and prayed fervently that, combined with the heavy rain, it would be enough to hide the scent of his blood. He looked down at his feet before he took to one knee and dug his good hand into the ground, coming up with a handful or mud and slapping it carelessly all over his opposite arm before picking a direction at random and taking off in a run.

 

***

 

The scent that assaulted his nostrils was unmistakably metallic and Yifan let out a long sigh, shoulders drooping when he heard his father shuffle in his study. It wasn't particularly strong, diluted by the smell of the fresh rain and the dirt the human had slathered onto himself, but it was enough to alert any vampire. Which mean that Yifan could no longer plead ignorance of Lay's escape attempt; if Yifan didn't get after him, his father or brother would.

 

"I'm on it," he called into the emptiness around him, knowing his family would be listening. His father muttered a bored 'good' from his study and his younger brother barely mustered a grunt of acknowledgement before he returned to whatever it was that he was doing.

 

In less than a minute, Yifan was at the hole in the fence. The rain was barely a tickle against his skin as he stepped towards the fence, staring up at the break in the barbed wire. The storm had washed away most of blood but the scent of it sent venom to his incisors and his breath quickened. He licked his lips and swallowed hard against the hunger as he forced his attention towards the leaning tree instead, scaling up its length in seconds before landing on two feet on the opposite side of the fence. He could feel the natural hunter inside him awaken; his nostrils flared as he searched for the scent of his prey and he lowered into an offensive stance, ready to pounce. It had been centuries since he'd had to properly hunt down a human, but his instincts were sharp as a needle still.

 

Yifan closed his eyes and focused, the rest of the world falling away as his nose searched for his target. He ignored the fresh scent of the grass, the sweet smell of the rain and the muddled murk of the earth before he found what he was looking for hidden underneath them. The vampire chewed on his bottom lip as he contemplated how long he could stall before his father would become suspicious.

 

***

 

Lay was starting to feel faint; he knew he was losing too much blood. He'd always had a hard time healing and even small cuts took forever to stop bleeding. His arm was starting to grow numb so he could only assume he'd cut himself pretty deep. He should stop for a moment to wrap the injury but if he did, he'd run the risk of getting found sooner. Before he make up his mind either way though, he felt his foot catch on something and he was falling again.

 

***

 

Yifan stopped in mid jog as his ears honed in on the distinct sound of someone screaming, of Lay screaming. When he realised it came from the direction of the (Rolling Waterfalls), his feet moved before he could command them and a second later, he was at the edge of the cliff over looking the river. Without missing a beat, he dove off the edge

 

***

 

This was it, this was the end, Lay thought when he could no longer scream. He was going to waste all that effort running away only to fall to his death. It was alright though, he'd be seeing his parents soon.

 

He closed his eyes, a sudden calm taking over his body as he fell.

 

***

 

The splash was a deafening roar in Yifan's ear and time seemed to slow as he searched for the source as he continued to fall. "Where are you?" he whispered to himself, hearing

**Middle Stuff**

Lay in recovery again, reminds him of when he first woke up after getting caught initially but he's in a proper bed this time. When he tries to move, he finds that he hurts everywhere and he groans loudly, stirring Yifan who has fallen asleep on the couch. This monster keeps saving him and Lay is starting to wonder if he's going to have to start keeping track and how he's going to repay the vampire (though conflicted and confused cus yifan is a vampire). "You almost died out there." "It would've been better than this."

 

 

 

 

Lay continues to wander the mansion but the thought of running away again barely sits at the back of his head any more, as it only reminds him of his close encounter with death. He reasons that it's not really that bad here? He's made friends with some of the other humans, mainly Xiumin (whom he helps with his chores when he's not in the library) and he hasn't felt the familiar pangs of hunger. He wonders if he's getting stockholm syndrome?? Yifan joins him in the library one day and Lay bargains that he should actually talk to Yifan, since he did save Lay's life and all… (more than once too).

 

Learns about Yifan's hobbies, how they live (eating like humans sometimes just to remember what it's like, something that his father looks down on Yifan for doing cus it's unnecessary and they are far superior now, not to mention, it's a waste of resources (he's already displeased how much he has to feed his herd to keep them operational) "What about your mother?" Yifan is reluctant to talk about that but eventually reveals how he was changed (Mother tried to keep Yifan and Shixun away from father when he turned, but he got obsessed and tried turning the whole family so he wouldn't be alone so he force fed them his blood and killed them. Mother refused to feed when he came back the took a gun to her head. When first turned, Yifan's memories are a little hazy, so as a child, he had believed that his father was just trying to save his kids when they were attacked (the so called attackers killed their mother), but as he got older, he got nightmares and he realised what the truth was) —> Maybe show as a nightmare earlier, lucid?

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Yixing stared blankly at the white ceiling above his bed for what felt like forever before he finally deigned to shove the sheets off him and sit up properly with a long sigh. It had been nearly a weak since his close encounter with death in the river. He shivered involuntarily at the memory, forcing it to the back of his mind with difficulty.

**Just a Taste**

Tasting confession - need a scene before confession —> just hanging out somewhere.

 

Lay raised an eyebrow curiously when Yifan didn’t reply. He swallowed uneasily, worried he might’ve crossed some line; how could he have forgotten his place? He was only a human, a mere pet for the purpose of passing the time. How had he managed to trick himself into thinking they could be friends? “I’m s-,” he started to apologize, only to get cut off.

 

“I have to tell you something,” Yifan said abruptly.

 

“Uhm… okay…?” Lay replied cautiously, taking a step back and grabbing his opposite elbow nervously

 

A long silence hung in the air between them before Yifan finally opened his mouth again. “There’s this thing, this… event thing tomorrow,” he started vaguely.

 

“Uh, okay?” Lay prompted when Yifan failed to elaborate himself.

 

Yifan let out a loud sigh before taking a deep breath and then stepping back to lean against the wall behind him. Lay’s eyebrows stitched together and he swallowed hard when he noticed that Yifan was purposely avoiding making eye contact with Lay. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Lay’s stomach and he stumbled backwards a step involuntarily.

 

“Do you remember the day you arrived?” Yifan asked, still keeping his gaze averted. He only paused for a second before continuing, clearly not expecting an actual answer from Lay. “Probably not. You were malnourished and weak, passed out the second I found you wandering our fields,” he chuckled softly as though he’d just told some joke that Lay didn’t catch. He cleared his throat a second later, and Lay followed his gaze down to his hands, one wrapped around the other tightly and knuckles white from exertion. “I did something that night that I shouldn’t have,” he continued, voice coarse and flecked with regret as he hung his head “I made a mistake.”

 

Lay swallowed again, biting down on his bottom lip until he could taste his own blood. His right hand immediately reached out to grab old of the opposite elbow, his grip tight, fingernails digging into the skin. Ever since his first conversation with Xiumin, he’d wondered, ‘Why me?’ and the only half-acceptable reasoning he could come up with was that Wu Yifan was simply bored, something that the vampire had said so himself on several occasions. On occasion, he’d still wonder though, why him? As Xiumin so loved to point out to him, there were hundreds of other choices over a stray. Someone so much more… agreeable than Lay. Realistically, Yifan should’ve just disposed of Lay at first sight.

 

“I know,” Lay replied quietly, barely above a whisper. Of course he knew. After all, Lay had been living a borrowed life since his parents passed away. Lay should’ve died in the same incident and then to have survived being discovered by a vampire? His good luck was bound to run out eventually.

 

Yifan looked up abruptly, finally meeting Lay’s eyes but with a look of surprise. “What?”

 

“I mean, I’m a stray, right? You were supposed to kill me.”

 

“No, that’s not…, I mean, yes, I wasn’t supposed to save you, but that’s not what I meant. I… There was something else I shouldn’t have done that night I found you.,” He cleared his throat. “Did, uh, did Xiumin explain to you the uh, different characteristics of blood?”

 

Lay shrugged, only half paying attention to the words coming out of Yifan’s mouth as a mild panic wormed itself up his back. ‘This is it, this is the end,’ he kept saying to himself despite his best efforts to shut up the voice in his head.

 

“You have hemophilia, did you know?” he asked rhetorically, “It means your blood doesn’t clot. Not very well anyway.”

 

Lay had never heard that word before, but he’d known about his condition as a child, with his parents constantly worrying over in case he should trip over his own feet. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Lay wanted to ask, but he bit his lip in a desperate hope that he not further (anger) one of the masters of this household.

 

“It uhm,” Yifan continued, pushing off of the wall and starting to pace, wringing his hands nervously. “It means that you, I mean your blood… has a distinct flavour.”

 

“You said you’d never…”

 

“I haven’t,” Yifan interjected immediately, stopping to look directly into Lay’s eyes, “I promised I wouldn’t and I haven’t,” he said sternly, his expression hard for a moment before it softened again. “I just… I needed an excuse, a reason to…,” he trailed off, taking a deep breath, “I had to give him a reason to let you live, even if it was only a little longer. My father, I mean. He’s the one who makes the rules, I’m sure Xiumin told you.” He sighed and took another deep breath again, letting it out slow with a lopsided half-smile, “Wow, this is harder than I thought.”

 

Lay’s eyebrows stitched together, curious, but he clamped his mouth closed.

 

“So uhm, anyway,” Yifan cleared his throat, “He was going to have you disposed of as soon as he saw me bring you in, but I couldn’t let him, so I just started talking, and one thing led to another and I was suddenly suggesting that he sell it as an exotic flavour of the month or something. He dismissed it immediately actually, and just to prove a point, he…” Yifan trailed off, swallowing visibly, “He threatened to drain you in front of me, and then to prove a point, he did, or at least he had every intention to before he got a taste.

 

“This… event tomorrow. He calls it a tasting, yeah, I know, it’s a terrible name,” he chuckled to himself quietly. “It’s a monthly culling of our best and rarest… crop, a sort of gift for a select group our VIP customers. And,” Yifan swallowed again, and despite being over a head taller than Lay, the vampire looked small. “You’re on the menu tomorrow,” he said, barely above a whisper.

 

Lay took a deep breath, suddenly determined to put on a brave face, “I’m human and you’re vampires. This was always the endgame, right?”

 

Yifan took a deliberate step forward, “They’re going to cut into you and serve you up like an animal.”

 

Lay couldn’t help the snort that slipped, “But that’s all I am to you monsters, aren’t I?”

 

“No, you don’t understand, you’re going to die.” Yifan stepped forward again, and Lay stumbled back in response, taken aback by the vampire’s wide eyes and quickened breath, “You’re going to die and I’m going to lose you again,” he breathed out softly, his hand moving to cup around Lay’s face before pulling away when the latter flinched.

 

Lay watched the muscles in Yifan’s jaw clench and unclench several times in silence after falling back several steps.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh…” Yifan trailed, hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I didn’t mean to just unload on you, but… I just needed to tell you the truth.”

 

There was a long silence before Lay spoke, “Then tell me why.”

 

“Why? Because I don’t want our last meeting to be a lie. It didn’t feel right to be having fun, knowing… well you know…”

 

“Why.”

 

Yifan squirmed visibly, “The last few weeks with you have been… nice, and I wanted you to know the truth.”

 

“No, tell me why you even bothered trying to save me in the first place. You keep telling me it’s because you were bored, but you can never look me in the eye when you say that. Tell me what you’ve been trying to hide. What kind of weird shit are you into?” he asked, wondering

 

Lay watched the lump in Yifan's throat bob up and down a couple times before the vampire finally spoke again.

 

"His name was Zhang Yixing."

 

Lay raised a confused eyebrow, unsure what the line was supposed to mean. He resisted the urge to blurt a 'what?', biting down on his lower lip to stop himself as he watched Yifan start to pace.

 

"He's, well, he's been gone for over a century now," Yifan continued, and Lay could tell from his tone that whoever this Zhang Yixing that's been gone for over a century was, he was important to Yifan. He felt an immediate clench in his chest when he saw the barely concealed tortured look in Yifan's eyes but he dismissed it with the reminder that vampires were monsters, monsters without feeling.

 

"It was before the infection." Yifan continued. "He and I, we were engaged. When I died, I'm told he wept bitterly, but not because I'd died, but because he knew that I'd come back as, well, as this," he gestured to himself vaguely. "He… he wanted to tell me face to face, that we couldn't continue on as if nothing had changed, and…" Yifan's voice cracked, "I was so new, so… unfamiliar with all the new changes in my body… he really shouldn't have come to see me, should've just left me a message or something…" he trailed off, his pacing becoming more _____, hands wringing nervously in front of him as a fresh silence fell between them again.

 

"You killed him," Lay finally supplied, barely above a whisper. His conclusion made Yifan stop pacing abruptly, turning to face Lay with eyes wide before his chin fell into his chest.

 

"I… he… it was an accident! He was just so much more fragile when I came back, he just… he was yelling and I was confused and then one thing led to another and then, then he… wasn't."

 

"Yelling?"

 

"He just… wasn't. Wasn't yelling, wasn't crying, wasn't breathing."

 

Lay swallowed hard, his gaze following Yifan's down to the vampire's shaking hands. For a brief moment, he had the thought to comfort Yifan, to tell him it wasn't his fault, that the transition was hard for everyone. He stopped himself though; there was no excuse for murder. "What does that have to do with me?" he asked instead.

 

Yifan looked up, surprised, as though he'd forgotten that Lay was still standing in front of him. "He… You have his face."

 

"What?" Lay managed to choke out after swallowing the dinner that was threatening to come up. The room around them started to spin, his vision blurring around the edges, his knees threatening to give out from under him.

 

"That night I found you… I had every intention of doing what I was supposed to do, but then I saw your face, and I couldn't bring myself to… not again…"

 

Lay stared blankly for a long moment, not sure how to process the fact that the only reason he was alive was because of some monster's guilt. "I…" was all he managed to get out before he turned and headed back to his room at a jog.

 

''His' room,' he chuckled to himself as he reached for the handle. How could he even consider anything here his? He knew he was living on borrowed time but to know he was borrowing it from someone who was already dead somehow made it worse. He closed the room door behind him and stood frozen in the dead quiet room for a moment before he leaned against the door and slid to a seated position, pulling his knees into his chest and letting the tears fall.

 

'Stupid, why are you crying?'

 

***

 

Yifan watched as the human walked, no, ran away, wanting to call after him to stop, but knowing he had no right to. He pressed his eyes shut as Lay's silhouette disappeared, wondering for the millionth time in the last few weeks why he hadn't simply turned his back that first night, let his father or brother find the stray. Perhaps if he hadn't been so selfish, Lay might've gotten away that night, might not be in his room, awaiting death, and not a nice one at that. His jaw clenched; he was going to have to witness Yixing dying again, except it would be Lay, someone innocent that he'd dragged into his own twisted fantasies.

 

He wondered for a moment whether he should help the human escape before the tasting and his feet began to move of their own accord until he was standing before Lay's room door. He brought his hand up to knock, but coming up short when the image of Lay's expression before he left their conversation a moment ago flashed in front of him. His fists clenched tightly, suspended in front of the door with hesitation. Hadn't he made enough decisions for Lay already?

 

With a long sigh, he dropped his hand back to his side and leaned his forehead against the door. "I'm sorry," he whispered under his breath, not expecting a reply but getting one from below him, under sobbing, muffled through the door.

 

"I hate you."

 

The words pierced through him like a knife but he supposed he deserved them. His jaw clenched tightly as he pushed off the door and he stared at the engraved wood a long beat before he sighed and took his leave, heading straight for the _______, calling loudly through the empty hallways for Xiumin until he found the latter peak around a corner.

 

"Send someone to my room. Doesn't matter who. I'll need him for the night," he said brusquely.

 

"I thought Lay…?" Xiumin started, immediately quieted by Yifan's stern look. "Of course, immediately."

 

Yifan didn't bother with a reply as he turned on his heel and headed to his own room.

 

***

 

 

 

It was called a tasting: a monthly culling of the Wu’s top rated humans to select the one to present to their best clients; a gift for being such loyal customers. Every month was a different rare flavour and this month’s was Yixing.

 

Admission prices, only 20ppl allowed each month?

 

Might as well make good use of this street rat, see what value he can fetch us

 

Lay opened his eyes to orange streaming into his room; sunrise, he realised with relief. He’d been awake for most of the night, slipping in and out of uneasy sleep. The sleeping medication that Xiumin had slipped him last night did little but plague what little shut-eye he could manage with nightmares. Images of his parents’ limp and lifeless bodies were painted on the inside of his eyelids every time he closed them and though he wasn’t a witness to the deed, Lay dreamed of at least a dozen horrifying scenarios that left him sweating in his bed when his eyes shot open.

 

He watched the shadow of the tree outside his window dance on his ceiling for a long moment before pulling himself upright. He stared at his room door blankly, wondering if anyone would notice if he just stayed inside all day. A knock on the door made him sigh at his misplaced _____. He blinks a couple times when Xiumin steps in, almost expecting Yifan to be the one to enter.

 

Xiumin remained silent as he stepped towards the bed and lay out a simple t-shirt and a pair of clean white slacks to match on the bed next to Lay. Just as wordlessly, Lay got out of his warm bed to slip out of his pyjamas and into the prepared outfit. He didn’t bother asking about breakfast as he followed the older out into the empty halls of the Wu mansion, the marble cold under his bare feet as he ascended the steps into the once forbidden west wing.

 

As the pair stood in front of a tall set of double doors, Lay suddenly found his breathing pick up. ‘This is it,’ he thought to himself, fingers balling into fists at his side as he glared at the gold handles.

 

[insert a reflection of his life?]

 

He took a deep breath as the doors swung open as if on their own accord, Xiumin’s hand coming up to rest on his shoulder for a brief moment before he was alone again. An ornate (bordering on gaudy, Lay thought to himself ____) gold chair stop atop a dais at the head of the room. He swallowed hard as he made for the chair, its high back and stiles adorned with the Wu Family golden dragon growing ever more imposing as he took the steps. He tried not to think how it could serve as a throne if it weren’t for the channels carved into the arms of the chair, leading toward the shoe of the chair where a tower of champagne flutes sat, sparkling under the bright show lights.

 

Lay took another deep breath as he turned and took his seat, feeling small against the engraved stone as he folded his hands neatly in his lap. He found himself face to face with no more than twenty faces, whispering eagerly to each other as they eyed him with hungry eyes. Lay swallowed hard, reminding himself that he’d vowed never to show any fear to these monsters. He kept his head level, staring past the unfamiliar faces in wait.

 

“Everyone! Please take your seats!” The voice of the head of the Wu family boomed throughout the room as the man stepped up onto the dais. His hand came to rest on the crest of Lay’s seat, sending an involuntary shiver through the human. “Now, if I may have everyone’s attention,” he started as soon as the chatter stopped. “I am sure you’re all eager to get this month’s tasting started but let’s have a nice introduction first, shall we?” He paused, a wide grin spreading across his features as a chorus of cheers greeted him. “We have a fantastic pour this evening […] Now, without further ado, let us begin!”

 

Lay watched as Xiumin stepped up, glancing up at his fellow human once with an expression full of apology before handing a black knife upwards that Yifan’s father took carefully with both hands before turning to address Lay. “Your wrists,” he ordered, pointing to the arms of the chair.

 

‘It’s okay, gunna see mum and dad now,’ Lay repeated to himself as he did what he was told. A quick glance at the blade against his skin made him look away abruptly, swallowing hard. As he tried to ignore the eagerness of all the vampires seated in front of him, a single figure stood up in the back abruptly, sending several chairs around him to their sides.

 

Yifan was partially hidden in the shadow of the walls and Lay saw him scowl, his eyebrows knit together in… was that frustration? The cold tip of the knife pressed against his skin and his jaw clenched in anticipation, keeping his focus solely on his keeper for the last couple of months. The burn of his skin splitting slid along the entire length of his upper arm and he watched as Yifan’s eyes darken. A smile made its way to Lay’s lips despite the pain, the knowledge that he’d never have to entertain the white haired monster again after this moment. He leaned his head backwards against the chair, waiting for the knife to press against his other arm.

 

‘It’s okay, gunna see mum and dad now,’ he repeated to himself as Yifan’s father stepped away, He glanced up to where Yifan was standing a moment ago to find the space empty. ‘Good, I won’t have to see his ugly face before I go,’ he grinned, eyes fluttering closed. He welcomed the feeling of nothing, submitting to it with ease as the sounds of excited whispers around him dulled into complete silence.

 

—-

 

Yifan swallowed dryly as he watched the knife cut into Lay's wrist, a deep crimson spilling down the human's fingers and into the chair around him, pooling near his feet where the pyramid of glasses waited. His gaze met Yixing's and a new wave of guilt washed over him; Lay had his lips pressed resolutely closed but eyes seemed to be saying that this was all Yifan's fault.

 

And Yifan agreed. No amount of trying to distract himself could get his mind off it. The only thing he'd managed to accomplish last night with that nameless human was waste yet another Wu asset in a futile attempt to push the images of Lay and what memories he'd had left of Yixing out of his mind. But by morning, the image of Lay's (disappointment or _____???) was still seared into his retina. In a rage, he'd drained the human under him, an unsatisfying but sufficient feeding he was suddenly immensely grateful for now given the scene before him, a river of delicious red flowing into the goblets that his father was now passing around to his guests. He watched Lay's eyes fluttered closed slowly, head lolling to his shoulder and one wrist falling from the chair, limp, lifeless. The heartbeat that had once been so strong was fading quickly to nothing and Yifan instinctively stepped forward, only to be stopped by an arm around his wrist.

 

"Here," his father said with a smile, holding out a filled glass, "It would be a waste if you couldn't enjoy it, you're the one who caught it, after all."

 

Yifan eyed the goblet, getting sick to his stomach when he thought about the source. "His name was Lay," he hissed, refusing to take the glass and turning his attention back to Lay's ever faltering pulse.

 

The grip around Yifan's arm tightened painfully, and despite his efforts, he couldn't pull free of his father's hold.

 

"What did you say?"

 

Yifan continued to struggle under his father's hand, holding his gaze stubbornly steady against his father's dangerous stare, a familiar unspoken threat to obey. The pressure against his skin increased slowly until Yifan could no longer feel his arm and he finally looked away, conceding unwilling defeat.

 

"Now," his father said, keeping his hold steady as though to remind Yifan that he was stronger, always was. "If you're not going to enjoy a drink with us, you might as well make yourself useful and dispose of the body," he ordered in the guise of a suggestion before finally letting go and turning back to his customers with a wide smile.

 

Yifan's jaw clenched as he reached up to subtly rub at the stinging spot as he stepped up to where the human lay limply. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his breath even as the decadent scent of iron assaulted his nose. Instinctively, his eyes dropped to Lay's neck and he could feel the venom racing towards his dry mouth, fangs extending. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then another, until they were no longer shaking with thirst despite his meal only hours ago. When he felt his fangs retract, he managed to open his eyes again, and with immense concentration, Yifan picked up the body, unpleasantly light as he threw it over his body and headed towards the exit, not missing the warning look he got from his father as he closed the door quietly behind him.

 

With the full knowledge that his father was probably listening to his every move, Yifan hurried towards the medical ward; it hadn't been used since the entire Wu family was changed but no one had gotten around to cleaning it out in the last century either. He rammed his way through the closed door, setting Lay down cautiously on the dusty cot and turned on the lights before turning to the glass cabinet in the corner and rummaging through its contents. The medicine was all expired but there had to be some sort of bandaging that may still prove useful. With a couple rolls of gauze in hand, he hurried back to Lay's side, suddenly finding it hard to breath when he couldn't immediately hear the human's pulse. "No no no no, not yet," he whispered in a panic, dropping the gauze across the human's body as he raised his wrist to his lips and bit into it. He barely flinched when the skin broke under the pressure, pressing his now bloodied wrist to the human's lips desperately. "Please," he choked out, "Please don't let it be too late."

 

The puncture wounds on his wrist were already healing, and Lay had yet to react, his lips limp and unreactive to the pressure Yifan was applying. "You can't die, dammit!" Yifan gasped, feeling his eyes start to burn as he pulled his wrist away, revealing a messy line of crimson smeared across the human's still lips. The human continued to lay there in his cot, deathly still even though Yifan could finally make out a heartbeat, faint, and getting fainter still. The vampire stared down at the lifeless body, falling to his knees limply with the realisation that he can't save the human, that it was his fault Lay was seconds away from death.

 

**Actions Have Consequences**

Lay’s eyes snapped open, taking a sharp breath in as he took in the fluorescent lights above him. In a fit of panic at the unfamiliar surroundings, he sprang into a seated position, immediately regretting it as a throbbing pain assaulted his head and he pressed his hand to it.

 

"Lay?" a faint voice called beside him and it was a long moment before he realised it belonged to Yifan, kneeling next to him with eyes glistening and a look of bewildered joy on his face. "You're… alive?"

 

"What?" Lay asked in confusion before the day's events came at him like a wall of bricks and he quickly looked down at his wrists, breath picking up as he stared, eyes wide, at the long lines of red along his arms. Another jolt of pain stabbed him in the head and he fell backwards once more as the strength left him, the fluorescent lights above him blinking in and out.

 

He heard the vague shuffling of the vampire getting to his feet before he felt an icy cold hand reach under his neck, propping his head up as something soft was shoved underneath it. "What are you…?" he started quietly, before he realised how scratchy his throat felt.

 

"Shhhh, it's going to be okay now," Yifan hushed as Lay felt something warm get thrown on top of him and he instinctively shivered. "I know you have questions, but right now, you need to rest."

 

Lay had more than just a few questions, a million actually, but his eyelids felt heavy and his head was still threatening to split in two. He groaned as he tried to get comfortable on whatever abomination claiming to be a bed he was lying on.

 

"It'll pass soon enough," Yifan assured again, taking one of Lay's wrist in his cold hands. "These will heal too," he said, and Lay opened his eyes only long enough to see the vampire wrap something around his arm. Too tired to comment, he let his eyelids fall closed again and welcomed the warm comfort of unconsciousness.

 

***

 

Yifan only let himself breathe once he'd finished dressing the human's wounds. They were already starting to heal by themselves, propelled by the vampire blood now coursing through the human's veins. Still, the process wasn't as fast as he'd like. He drew up a chair that had been folded against the wall and collapsed into it heavily. "Shit," he whispered to the empty room as he stared at his shaking hands, now covered in the human's blood. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" he repeated, the words echoing back at him in the empty room as grabbed his shirt, his vision going blurry as he noted just how much of his shirt was covered in the human's blood. He pulled it off with difficulty, using it to clean what was left on his hands as a calm panic settled in the pit of his stomach. What had he done?

 

 

There were few rules agreed upon by the general population after the (war name?), but the one law never to be broken was the control of vampire blood transfer to humans. The race had drawn dangerously close to a food shortage when vampires, like Yifan's own father, were turning humans on a whim, and they had come to a global agreement that an application had to be submitted prior to any application of vampire blood to humans, whether to turn, or for medical reasons (where only a certified doctor would be allowed in extenuating circumstances).

 

Throwing the soiled shirt on the floor with a loud thunk, Yifan ran his fingers through his hair uneasily, "Alright, it's going to be fine. As long as he does die in the next day or so, my blood should be out of his system and he won't turn. No one has to know what I did." No sooner had he said those words out loud to himself did the door swing open with no warning, his father storming in thunderously and grabbing Yifan by the arm and pulling his son to his feet forcefully, the younger nearly tripping over the chair that rattled between Yifan's staggering legs before finally falling on its side. "Are you out of your goddamned mind?!" he boomed, forcing Yifan back against one of the walls and shifting his strength to pinning his son down with his forearm against the younger's throat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

 

With slight difficulty, Yifan managed a smirk, "I take it you're done entertaining your guests then?"

 

His father narrowed his eyes dangerously, "You watch your tone with me, child," he warned, applying additional pressure against Yifan's trachea, drawing (choking sounds) from him.

 

Thought mentally exhausted from his earlier ordeal, Yifan still managed to muster enough strength to finally push his father off him, drawing in sharp breaths as he glared his father down, refusing to back down even as the latter raised an arm to strike.

 

Scowling at his son's stubbornness, Yifan's father lowered his fist to his side and took a deep breath, pulling his sleeve cuffs proper, "I must return to my guests. But we are not finished here."

 

"No, I don't imagine we are," Yifan bit out, his own fingers balling into fists at his side. He held his gaze firm against his father's, unblinking until the latter backed towards the door and finally turned to leave, an obvious warning in his eyes.

 

Yifan finally let himself breathe when the door closed firmly behind his father, his focus immediately returning to the body in the cot. He took a deep breath, and let himself smile when he found the familiar thumping of a strong heart, paired with a steady breath in and then out. He upright the chair and drew it close to the cot, settling into it with a long sigh. A small voice in his head told him he should probably prepare himself for whatever punishment his father would have in store for him but for the moment, he just wanted to rest. He reached a hand out to push a stray hair back away from Lay's face and let a smile creep onto his lips. 'This was a win,' he reminded himself as he glanced down at Lay's arms, taking one hand in his own and (loving) how warm it felt in his fingers.

 

Alive.

 

At least for now.

 

***

 

Lay wakes up back in his bed, with Xiumin taking his bandages off. Asks him what's going on. Xiumin is reluctant to diulge info, saying he's just responsible of

 

 

 

For a brief but terrifying moment, he worried that he might’ve become turned, that this monster had changed his fate without asking. The frigid touch against his forehead allowed him relief though, proof that he was still warm-blooded if he could feel cold.

 

With ____, Lay realised that the vampire had used his blood to heal him. [recall how he knows that vampire blood can be healing].

 

“Why am I alive?” he asked through gritted teeth, finally deigning to break his promise to never speak to a vampire; he needed to have some questions answered. He turned away from the surprised look on the taller male’s face to glare at the wall of whatever room he was in.

 

“I-,” the vampire started, voice catching as he hesitated, “I gave you some of my blood.”

 

Lay turned to glare at the vampire, “No, I mean why did you bring me back?” he clarified with a frown. He felt disgusted at the idea that this monster was playing with his life so carelessly. “And you didn’t kill me the day you found me, even though the Wu policy is to kill strays on sight. What do you want from me? Why won’t you just let me die, already!”

 

Yifan frowned visibly as he pulled his other hand back to himself. A long silence hung in the room as Lay watched the vampire contemplate to himself, finally sighing. “You look like someone I used to know,” he paused, stepping back to settle into a chair, “Someone I loved.”

 

Lay’s eyebrows pulled up into his forehead in surprise, having never really thought about the monsters having feelings of love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’ve never felt so terrified in my life,” he found himself saying, though he knew a vampire hardly needed to explain himself to a human. But as he pressed soft circles into the fragile skin, he knew he had to let the human know. “Watching everyone look at you like that, like you (were a piece of meat to be devoured), it made me sick to my stomach.” Yixing’s expression falls, his features nervous as he waits for Kris to continue. “And that’s when it hit me: I don’t want to share you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Lay woke again, he was back in his own bed, the sheets pulled up tightly around his neck. His room was dark save for the tiny streaks of moonlight that made it through the window blinds. His stomach growled but instead of getting up to look for something to eat in the kitchens, he curled deeper into his sheets, drawing them over his head with a groan.

 

[…]

 

The sound of his door handle rattling was enough to get Lay sitting upright. He barely had time to contemplate who, or what, might be on the other side of the door before there was a loud thump, sounding vaguely like a body collapsing to the floor.

 

“Lay?” Yifan’s voice called weakly, followed by a pained groan echoing in the room. “You still here?”

 

“What the?” the human whispered, reaching over to turn on the lamp beside his bed. Splotches covered his vision from the sudden brightness and he rubbed his eyes.

 

“Oh thank god,” Yifan’s breathed out, his voice cracking.

 

“What… happened?” Lay managed when his eyes finally grew accustomed to the light. Yifan had one hand on the wall for support while the rest of him was leaning over, legs shaking as though they’d give out any moment.

 

The vampire coughed, a spray of red painting the floor under him before he covered his mouth with his hand. “It’s nothing, really. Just… got into it a bit with my father,” he explained vaguely, keeping his hood up and his head turned away from Lay as though purposely avoiding the human’s eye.

 

Lay frowned, taking a moment absorb the fact that Yifan was spitting up blood before he was on his feet, hurrying towards the taller. Instinctively, he snaked an arm around Yifan’s back to hold him up but the vampire pulled away quickly, sending a sharp pain into Lay’s chest.

 

“I’m fine, I need to go,” Yifan muttered quickly, still keeping his face hidden behind his hood as he backed away and turned around towards the bedroom door.

 

“Hey, wait!” Lay called out before he could stop himself, reaching out to grab Yifan’s arm, eliciting an uncomfortable hiss from the latter before he pulled his arm to himself forcefully. He took the handle of the door, pulling it closed behind him quickly.

 

“Stop!” Lay shouted, launching himself forwards and slipping his hand between the door and the frame just as Yifan pulled the door closed. His fingers throbbed from the impact and he pulled them into himself, bending over in a loud whine, tears forming at the edges of his closed eyes as he cursed loudly.

 

“Are you okay?” Yifan’s panicked voice asked as he spun around and took Lay’s hand into his own to inspect.

 

“No, you slammed a fucking door on my hand, you asshole.”

 

A snort came from Yifan as he folded his hand over Lay’s the coolness a comfort over the hot swelling. “You’re fine if you can call me an asshole.”

 

Lay rolled his eyes, using his free hand to reach for Yifan’s hood to pull it back, only to have Yifan drop Lay’s hand so he could keep the hood in place again. “I have to go.”

 

“Why won’t you look at me?” Lay asked, stopping Yifan in his tracks.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“You told me you’d stop keeping things from me,” Lay insisted, massaging his fingers. He could see Yifan hesitating, even in the darkness of the hallway, lit only by his bedside lamp behind him.

 

Slowly, Yifan turned around so that the light barely illuminated his jaw where a muscle clenched visibly, “I didn’t want you to ever see me this way,” he whispered, taking a step forward.

 

Lay breathed in sharply as a pair of fangs came into view, peaking over Yifan’s bottom lip, split open with a cut that reached downwards into his chin. The vampire took another step forward, and then a third until Yifan was inside the room again, his hood still shading his eyes. Yifan stood frozen, as if waiting. Lay’s eyes flickered to the fangs once more and he swallowed hard as he reached up with his uninjured arm once more, hand closing around the edge of the hood.

 

Cold fingers rested on his own for a brief moment and he watched the vampire swallow nervously before letting go and nodding slowly, jaw still visibly clenched.

 

The cloth of the hood finally pulled away Lay gasped when he saw Yifan’s eyes, sclera black like the night and irises a bloody red. He stumbled backwards in shock and Yifan closed his eyes quickly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

Lay shook his head before remembering Yifan couldn’t see him, “No, that’s… I mean, I was surprised is all.”

 

“I should go,” Yifan repeated, turning away once more.

 

“No, wait, what happened to your face?” Lay asked.

 

Yifan paused in mid turn, “Like I said, I got into it a bit with my father is all. It’s nothing.”

 

“It’s not nothing,” Lay argued, recalling how Yifan had hissed painfully when he’d grabbed his arm earlier. He did so again, this time a lot more gently, tugging Yifan forward a step. He pulled the sleeve up slowly, revealing dark bruises along the length of his arm he didn’t recall seeing earlier.

 

“Your father did this?”

 

Yifan’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “He didn’t like that I saved you after The Tasting. It’s illegal for a vampire to transfer their blood to a human unless you’re a certified doctor or you have the proper registration papers for…” he trailed.

 

“For what?” Lay asked, though he could guess; there weren’t many reasons why a vampire might give a human their blood.

 

Yifan cleared his throat, “Nothing,” he corrected abruptly, “I really have to go,” he repeated again, trailing into nothing though when Lay’s finger traced along the cuts across his face.

 

“Show me,” Lay whispered, his thumb tracing along the taller’s eyelashes. The request made Yifan press his eyes shut tighter. “Please?”

 

Reluctantly, Yifan opened his eyes, “I have to go, Lay. I’m thirsty and I shouldn’t be here when I’m like this. I just had to check that he hadn’t sent someone to take you away or…” he trailed again.

 

“These cuts will go away if you feed?” Lay asked rhetorically.

 

“Yeah,” Yifan answered anyway, “Which is why I have to go, right now. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.”

 

‘From what?’ Lay almost asked before he caught sight of Yifan’s eyes again. He swallowed hard as he pulled his hand back to himself. “Then don’t,” Lay said flatly. ‘What are you saying, Lay?!’ a voice screamed in his head. He looked down at his own sleeves, tried to quell the butterflies in his stomach and pulled them up to his elbows before looking back up to find Yifan’s eyes wide with shock.

 

“Lay, I’m hurt. I could end up killing you.”

 

Lay swallowed hard. “You can control it, though.” he got out, barely above a whisper. “Xiumin… he says you’re… (gentle)…? I mean, that’s why you kept me around this long, right?”

 

Yifan was visibly distraught, his fingers balled into fists at his side, worrying his lip in contemplation, “Lay, that’s… that’s not why…” his lips pressed into a lip, regretful.

 

Lay stepped in close, lifting his wrist slowly, “You won’t kill me,” he said before he could think it. “You had the chance, twice, and I’m still here.”

 

Yifan stared hard into Lay’s eyes for a long moment before he sighed in defeat, taking Lay’s wrist carefully in hand. “Try to relax,” he whispered quickly.

 

Before Lay could manage a reply, he felt a quick pressure against his skin before a sense of (euphoria) overcame him. His knees trembled and he sunk against Yifan’s arm, suddenly propping him up with an arm around the waist.

 

Lay blinked a couple of times, brow furrowing as he tried to understand the sensations coursing through his body. He glanced at Yifan, amazed at how the cuts on his face disappeared almost instantaneously, closing up to smooth skin as if they’d never existed.

 

He felt his breath hitch before they started to come out short. Lay closed his eyes in an effort to concentrate on levelling his breathing but his focus was drawn to his fingers, now numb like his toes. His head suddenly felt heavy and he let it drop backwards, too tired to try holding it up any longer. He vaguely recalled that he was supposed to be in his room, with… Yifan?

 

His eyes snapped open, lifting his head with effort to find himself back in his room, staring straight at Yifan’s face, the vampire’s expression softening as he sighed with relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that much.”

 

Lay swallowed, grimacing when he found it dry and feeling like sandpaper.

 

“Here,” Yifan offered, holding out a glass of water as Lay pulled himself upright against his pillows. He reached a shakey hand out, finding it hard to find a proper grip around the glass until Yifan pressed his hand against Lay’s, lifting the ____ to Lay’s lips, careful not to spill any of the liquid.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, putting the glass down on the table beside the bed. His expression was apologetic but all Lay could focus on were Yifan’s eyes, a soft brown against white once more.

 

“They’re back to normal,” the human blurted out without thinking, feeling his cheeks burn when he noticed how Yifan’s face dropped and Lay realised how rude he sounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Lay started to apologize, unsure of how to end the sentence. He cleared his throat, “How are your injuries?” he asked instead.

 

A smile softened Yifan’s expression, “All better thanks to you,” he chuckled lightly, pulling his sleeves up and presenting his smooth arms for proof.

 

Lay glanced at his own arm, pulling up his own sleeve to reveal his wrist, two barely visible dots similar to those he’d discovered upon waking in a cage, except less widely set.

 

“The venom helps the healing,” Yifan explained.

 

“Yeah, Xiumin explained,” Lay returned, chewing on his lip as he traced the scars, a slight tingling beneath his fingers.

 

“I should let you rest,” Yifan announced. The bed shifted under Lay as the vampire stood up soundlessly.

 

“No, wait,” Lay blurted again, frowning when he realised he’d reached out to grab Yifan’s arm to keep the latter from leaving. He cleared his throat, dropping his hand once more when Yifan turned to look at him with a curious expression. Lay felt his face go warm again and he dropped his hand immediately back to his side, fingers gripping around the blankets he was sitting on. His one hand was still swollen but his fingers folded tighter into themselves despite the (pain). "Nevermind," he grumbled, shuffling to lie down in the bed and hide under the sheets.

 

Yifan's laugh sent a curious shiver up Lay's spine in a way that the human knew he wouldn't easily forget soon. He swallowed hard and pressed his eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore how his chest swelled slightly when the vampire whispered another quiet 'thank you' before leaving the room.

**Kai**

Lay spent most of his time helping the doctor, tending to the other humans as required and holding his tongue whenever the desire arose to criticise their way of living. As far as he could tell, the humans here seemed  _happy_. They were well fed and while Lay felt ill at the thought, they were  _excited_ to be purchased,  _like property_. Lay had learned that he was in the (minority) in thinking that the process of _____________ was unnatural. Xiumin in particular could not understand why or  _how_  Lay had managed to survive without the guidance of a vampire master.

 

"A  _master_?" Lay had asked incredulously when the term was first brought up. "You're talking  _slavery_."

 

A look of sheer shock had graced Xiumin's features at the word, and the doctor shook his head with disappointment, "No, of course not. It's not like that."

 

"They literally have a catalogue of humans for their customers to choose from," Lay said flatly.

 

"True, but families have a responsibility of caring for their humans."

 

"Why the hell would they? We're just food for them."

 

"Not true," Xiumin shook his head, though he paused for a brief moment of hesitation, "Well, at least that's not true here?" he trailed. "The Wu Family only deals in entertainment. The are not  _monsters_  simply out to get a meal. The Wu name is prestigious, and our clients are vetted properly before they are allowed to make any purchases."

 

"How can you be sure?"

 

A perplexed look made its way across Xiumin's face as he contemplated the thought, as if he'd never thought to ask the question. "I just do. This Household operates in an ethical manner."

 

"And how's that?" Lay shot back.

 

"Well, we have a system here. Our clients are concerned about  _quality_  and are certainly willing to pay for it. We serve a higher  _class_  of vampire here. Not just anyone has access to our crop and we take care to keep it that way. Everyone knows that."

 

Lay growned, having tired of the argument. It was like talking to a wall, like these humans were brainwashed to think that a hierachy designed to make humans subservient to vampires was  _normal_.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Lay spent most of his time with Xiumin, helping the doctor with his duties as required. He'd even begun to talk to the humans in the _______ wing. He still didn't approve of the way everyone was so complacent in their own slavery, but he was starting to grow lonely without anyone to talk to.

 

It was on a particularly slow day of filing old medical files that he met Kai.

 

The man was graceful as he stepped into the infirmary, so quiet that Lay barely noticed that he'd arrived until Xiumin spoke up.

 

"Ah, hello Kai, here for a top up?" the doctor asked, turning around to his cabinet and rummaging through it before return with a small bottle and handing it to the newcomer.

 

"Thanks, doc," Kai had replied with a soft smile before glancing over at Lay with a sort of bored interest. "Is this the stray everyone is talking about?"

 

Lay's face flamed up at the word. He'd never used the word in reference to himself, but it seemed like everyone in the Mansion was intent on using it and Lay was starting to get annoyed at how everyone always used it with a sneer. Kai however wasn't sneering, simply watching Lay with a look of intrigue as he took a slow step towards him. "I'm Kai."

 

Lay had heard the name floating around in conversations with the other humans, but he'd never met the man himself. Apparently, this  _Kai_  was exclusive to the youngest Wu brother. He did not dine or sleep with the other humans. Instead, he was at Shixun's side at all times.

 

"H-hi," Lay managed, only barely remembering that he should return the gesture of introducing himself, "Lay," he said simply, trying not to stare at the strips of leather that wrapped around the other man's wrist and neck.

 

Kai managed a chuckle but said no more as he left the room once more.

 

"Is he hurt?" Lay asked, as soon as Kai was out of earshot.

 

"What?" Xiumin replied, eyebrow rising into his forehead.

 

"Those strips around his wrist, do they serve a medicinal purpose?" Lay asked.

 

"What?" Xiumin repeated before a look of realisation took over his features. "Oh! You mean his ______. No, that's just a warning to other vampires."

 

"A warning?" Lay asked, still confused.

 

"It means Kai is taken. Shixun has claimed him and those strips make it obvious to others that this human is off limits," Xiumin rolled his eyes when he noticed the continued perplexed look Lay was giving him. "Our earrings depict what household we belong to, but a _______ shows that you belong onto to one master."

 

"How the hell is that any different?!"

 

Xiumin sighed heavily, "It's a commitment. The ______ mean that the master has made the human their personal companion, and more frequently than not, a master only has a single _______-ed companion at a time."

 

"What you mean is that they're dating."

 

Xiumin flinched, and Lay raised an eyebrow at the reaction, unaware that the term  _dating_  was sensitive. "I suppose if you must use dated terminology, yes, that would be the case. We prefer _____-ed."

 

Lay hummed to himself as he processed the information, "What happens then? I mean, is it… permanent?"

 

"Permanent? I suppose it  _can_  be, depending on the situation. Most of the time, though, the human reaches his expiration and the master will find a new human to replace him."

 

"I mean, why bother …  _(____)-ing_  a human when you could just change them and have them at your side forever?"

 

"You don't know much, do you?"

 

Lay's face reddened once more, annoyed that Xiumin was calling him  _stupid_.

 

"It's a long and lengthy process to turn someone. Even giving a human vampire blood requires a license. If they were to just turn every human they liked, there would be a blood supply shortage, which is what happened when the war first ended. There aren't many laws anymore, but this one must never be broken. The sentence is  _death_."

 

Lay swallowed and put down the folder he'd been holding onto the desk. "I have to go," he said abruptly before breaking into a sprint, coming to face Yifan's bedroom door with laboured breathing from the five flights of stairs he'd taken. He barely bothered to stop to catch his breath, but hesitated when he reached his hand out toward the handle; what was he doing here? Was he really about to ask a vampire why he was willing to risk his life to bring Lay back from the brink of death? He already knew the answer to that, didn't he? This stranger named  _Zhang Yixing_.

 

His felt a sharp stab in his chest at the thought and he furrowed his brow, hand slipping off the handle and falling to his side again.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Birds chirping in his ears, the sun in his eyes, the smell of the neighbour's freshly cut grass in his nose, and a soft breeze against his cheek. Yifan swallowed at the familiar scene, forcing himself to take a deep breath but failing to calm the painful pounding in his chest. "It'll be over soon," he whispered to himself as he took a cautious step forward, a house coming into view. He took another deep breath before taking a second step, though he knew it would do nothing.

 

Yifan had been here before. In fact he'd been here more than once, more than a thousand times, more than he could keep track of anymore, but the effect was unpleasant all the same.

 

"Mother?" he heard himself call out as he started up the steps to the front door. He swallowed hard when he got no response. "Father?" he tried instead, voice shaking as he pushed the front door open. "Mother?" he called again, even though it was just to play the scene; he knew what he was looking for would be in the back yard.

 

WIth a deep breath, he wandered his childhood home until he reached the other end of it, the sliding glass door beckoning him. He stepped up to the handle, hesitating with his hand on the (handle) as he watched his mother tend to the garden with her back towards him. He swallowed hard, wondering if he could simply stand there with the glass between then for eternity, an argument he'd had with himself more than a hundred times before.

 

The ending was always the same no matter how long he waited to get to it.

 

Yifan took a deep breath and put on his best smile as he slid the door open, "Mother?" he said, trying to keep his voice level for her; she mustn't know something was wrong.

 

"Yifan!" she greeted, turning around and getting to her feet, pulling her work gloves off. She hurried towards Yifan with her arms open and pausing in the middle of the yard, waiting. His mother smiled at him and for a brief moment, Yifan thought it might not be so bad to be back here again. Afterall, his mind was the only place he could see his mother anymore. His father had destroyed everything that reminded him of her including the home the brothers had grown up in and built a new life on top of her ashes. He smiled as he stepped forward into the warm embrace, forgetting what would happen next.

 

The loud snap echoed in his ear and not even his own loud scream could drown it out. His mother's body went limp in his arms, and Yifan's knees buckled under the weight, setting her lifeless body easily on the ground. "Mother?!" he exclaimed when he finally pulled away, knowing he would get no response but trying anyway. Her eyes were wide, staring at nothing, her head an unnatural angle with her neck and she lay in a pile in the middle of her garden. Her silhouette was already fading and Yifan scrambled for a hold of any part of her, but only ashes slipped through his fingers as the ground around him burst into flame.

 

"Come, Yifan, let's find your brother," his father's voice boomed from overhead and Yifan looked up to find him standing with his hand held out for Yifan to take, a manic look in his wide eyes.

 

Yifan looked down at where his mother once was, nothing left but a pile of ash and forced his tears back.

 

"It's time to go, son."

 

Yifan swallowed and got to his feet, glaring at the image of his father before taking a step forward. "I'm ready," he whispered quietly, which only made the terrifying smile on his father's face grow wider as he reached out to cup his hands around Yifan's face.

 

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, "I'm ready," he repeated, barely above a whisper.

 

 _Snap_.

 

—-

 

Yifan opened his eyes to the familiar ceiling of his bedroom and he sighed heavily at the realisation that his subconscious still liked to toy with him. The dream first came to him nearly a decade after he was first turned.

 

 

 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Lay was helping Xiumin clean his ____ when Kai stumbled into the room. There were dark circles around his bloodshot eyes, his skin pale and lips chapped.

 

"Hey, whoa, I got you," Lay whispered as he hooked his arm around Kai's waist to support his weight.

 

"Set him over here," Xiumin instructed, clearing a bunch of supplied off of the cot.

 

Kai laid down with difficulty, and closed his eyes as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

Lay watch Xiumin sigh and turn his attention back to organizing his things.

 

"Wait, aren't you going to help him?"

 

"Help him?" Xiumin asked inccredulously. "What do you expect me to do? I'm not God."

 

"But you're a doctor and he's sick."

 

"He's not sick, Lay, he's dying."

 

"Well, yes, I can see, that! That's why I'm asking why you're not doing anything about it!"

 

Xiumin stared at Lay blankly for a moment before taking a deep breath, "Right, I keep forgetting you're not from around here."

 

"What?"

 

"He's dying because he's at the end of his useful cycle, Lay."

 

"What?"

 

"Old humans don't get customers, Lay. So they just don't get old."

 

"What?" Lay repeated broken.

 

Xiumin shrugged, "It's just how things are. We're designed to only last a few years before our bodies break down and you get put back into the ____. It's not bad for Kai's. They're pretty popular so they'll get another in circulation pretty quickly."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

Xiumin rolled his eyes, "Humans are genetically engineering here, Lay, programmed for certain needs. I myself will have a longer lifetime than Kai because my primary role is as a doctor. Kai's are designed to be attractive with a pleasant flavour, but they're short term investments. They have a shelflife of about ten years and it just so happens that Kai here is at the end of his. The only way to break that cycle would be to turn him, but I doubt master Shixun enjoyed his company that much."

 

"That's horrible."

 

"No, it's efficient," Xiumin corrected, "Humans require too many resources to stay alive, so we made them better."

 

"There are no children here…" Lay realised suddenly, getting a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

"Children? No of course not, they provide little in way of nutritional benefit and the majority of our clientele do not want them. Of course, we get the odd bored customer who wants to pass the time raising a human baby, but those are on special order only."

 

"I think I'm going to be sick," Lay whispered, stumbling backwards in the wall behind him.

 

Xiumin looked at Lay with a confused raised eyebrow. "It's not like this is news, it's been like this for centuries."

 

"I have to go," Lay managed, making a point of avoiding looking at Kai's body. He stumbled out of Xiumin's office

 

 

 

 

 

Kai gets sick and instead of getting treated, Shixun simply tosses him out and picks someone else as a replacement. (He teases lay for a moment about maybe taking his brother's favourite toy) Lay gets the courage to ask why Yifan is being so nice to him; asks him how long before Yifan will toss Lay to the side like Shixun tossed Kai. "I'm not him, you know that right?"

**Choices**

"Well, well, well. If it isn't big brother's favourite little toy."

 

Lay practically jumped at the voice, spinning around on his heel to lock gazes with Shixun, his heart pounding in his ears when he realised that in his absentmindedness, he's wandered into the _____ wing and was only a few meters outside of the youngest Wu's room.

 

"Come to ____? A little bold for a human, wouldn't you say?" Shixun snickered, taking deliberate steps forward that forced Lay back until he was against the wall. "What are you doing up and about all by your lonesome, looking like a delicious midnight snack? Where's your master?"

 

"He's not my master," Lay instantly shot back before flushing red in the face when Shixun smiled knowingly.

 

"Well, in that case, why don't I take you in instead?" Shixun asked, running a long finger along Lay's jaw and tipping the human's chin up to face him properly. "You're not bad for a stray. And I've recently had my favourite plaything taken from from me, so I'm get a spot open for you."

 

Lay's eyes narrowed turning away with a scowl. "I'd rather die."

 

"Tch," Shixun stepped forward, pressing a forceful hand against Lay's chest, "Speaking so rudely to a vampire, I ought to have you punished," he chuckled, grabbing Lay's jaw in his hand and forcing the human to look at him. "What is it that's so special about you that would make Big Brother risk the wrath of Father to save your pathetic excuse for a life?" He stared hard into Lay's eyes, holding the human steady with ease even as Lay struggled to no avail.

 

With another disgusted 'tch', Shixun let go of Lay's face and turned his attention to Lay's wrist instead, bringing it up to investigate, "Ah, so he is feeding on you," he laughed.

 

Lay could feel his face burn and he tried to pull his hand back to himself, but Shixun held fast, looking barely bothered at the struggling human. A mischievous grin pulled onto Shixun's features and Lay stopped moving, a panic settling into the pit of his stomach at he met the vampire's eye. Every fibre of his being screamed silently in terror as he watched the whites of Shixun's eyes turn black, brown irises turning crimson.

 

"You want to know something interesting?" Shixun asked playfully, bringin Lay's wrist to his lips.

 

Lay felt his pulse race but no amount of flailing seemed to do anything to free him from the vampire's hold.

 

"Did you know," Shixun continued slowly, his voice husky, "Every human's blood taste different, but the one thing they have in common is that they all taste so much better when the host," he paused to lean in close enough to whisper the next words in Lay's ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver down the human's spine, "Is properly stimulated."

 

Lay felt his bottom lip quiver and he bit down hard on it to make it stop, holding his gaze steady against Shixun's. He wasn't going to let this monster know that he was afraid.

 

Shixun snickered, "I can feel your pulse under my fingers, you know," he said, "I can tell you're scared. That's good. It'll make this so much more fun."

 

Lay swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in his throat but he held his gaze fast; he refused to let this vampire get the better of him.

 

A second later, Shixun was no longer against him and he fell to his knees at the lack of support. When he looked up, he found Yifan's figure looming over him, the vampire's back towards the human. When Lay looked closer he realised that Yifan was holding Shixun a foot off the floor, fingers wrapped tightly around the younger's neck. Another moment later, he watched as Yifan tossed his brother across the hallway likea rag doll, the younger landing on his side and sliding into the wall behind him.

 

Ignoring his younger brother, Yifan turned to face Lay instead, helping the human to his feet with a surprisingly worried look on his face. (Lay swallowed, trying not to think about how it sent butterflies aflutter in his stomach.)

 

Lay watched Shixun get to his feet from behind Yifan, not realising he'd grabbed onto the taller's shirt nervously until he looked away from Shixun to see worry in Yifan's eyes. He swallowed hard and forced himself to let go, keeping his gaze downcast.

 

"If you know what's best for you, you'll keep your filthy hands off him," Yifan's voice boomed above Lay, echoing off the walls of the mansion.

 

Despite his coughing as he struggled to catch his breath, Shixun laughed as he managed to get up on all fours, "What, you can't take a joke, Big Brother?"

 

"Can you walk?" Yifan asked quietly, ignoring his brother behind him.

 

Lay swallowed, hating how babied he felt at the moment, but he nodded, letting Yifan lead him down the hallways with his hand wrapped around Lay's wrist, Shixun's laughter echoing off the walls. "If not me, it'll be someone else, Yifan. You can't protect him forever, he belongs to the Family, brother. A treat like that's going to get snatched up quickly at tomorrow's auction."

 

Lay could feel the vampire's grip around his wrist tighten and he winced at the added pressure. "Come on," Yifan said quietly, barely above a whisper, "We're done here," he said before starting down the hall, Lay practically running just to keep his arm from being ripped off.

 

***

 

"Are you okay?" Yifan asked when he'd finally gotten the door locked on his room.

 

"Uhm, I… yeah, but you're hurting me a little," Lay explained, directing the vampire's gaze down to his wrist.

 

"Oh," Yifan fumbled, immediately letting god as if he'd been burned. "I'm sorry, I didn't…" he started, guilt making itself home in the back of his ____ as he watched the human rub his wrist.

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“Well, well, if it isn’t big brother’s favourite little toy.”

 

Lay swallowed uneasily, glancing behind Shi Xun at Kai who seemed to be making an effort to avoid meeting Lay’s eye.

 

“What are you doing up and about all by your lonesome?” Shi Xun sung, stepping towards Lay, sending the human stumbling back several steps. “Where’s your master?”

 

Lay’s eyes narrowed, “He’s not my master,” he hissed, regretting his words the moment they left his mouth. He watched as a devious grin pulled onto Shi Xun’s lips.

 

“Oh? So what exactly is your relationship then?” the vampire asked, leaning forwards so that Lay’s back was pressed against the wall. He glanced down, his gaze fixated on Lay’s neck. “It’s not like he’s feeding on you,” he observed, before dropping his gaze further to Lay’s wrist. “Or maybe he is?” he grinned, taking the human’s wrist in his icy hand, turning it so that the two scabs from Yifan’s teeth faced upwards.

 

Lay pulled his hand back to himself, only to have the Wu’s second son tighten his grip, holding the human firmly in place against the wall. “Wonder what makes you so special that big brother would risk the wrath of father to save your pathetic excuse for a life…” Shi Xun mused out loud as he traced a finger around the puncture wounds and sending an uneasy shiver through Lay.

 

“Want to know something interesting?” the vampire asked, bringing Lay’s wrist to his lips despite the latter’s resistance.

 

Lay’s heart started to race with panic, glancing over at Kai once more in a plea for help. […] He shook his head slowly in reply, hoping that if he answered the questions, whatever this was would be over quickly.

 

“Well, did my brother ever tell you how to make a human’s blood taste better?” Shi Xun asked, his voice husky as he drew even closer, his breath tickling Lay’s ears uncomfortably.

 

[…] “Please stop,” Lay begged, tears starting to form at the edges of his eyes as he started to realised what was happening.

 

[…]

 

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll keep your hands off of him,” Yifan’s voice boomed, his hand tightening against his younger brother’s neck as his eyes narrowed dangerously.

 

[…]

 

“Are you okay?” Yifan asked, breathless as he crouched next Lay.

 

The human swallowed uneasily as he stared at his wrist, watching the single stream of blood travel down his arm.

 

 

 

Lay swallowed hard as he stared back at the vampire, an unease settling into the pit of his stomach.

 

He swallowed, closing his eyes as he leaned forward to press his lips against the vampire’s

 

“Wait,” Yifan whispered, pulling away with an unreadable expression. “I-, this isn’t what I meant, I mean, I don’t want-,” he stammered.

 

Something invisible stabbed through Lay’s chest and he flinched, “Oh, uhm,” Lay whispered, backing away quickly.

 

“No, I do want to, but I… I can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that anyone cares, but Xiumin was supposed to be a vampire posing as a human in house doctor.  
> Yifan's father has serious problems with control and was the one who made Yixing leave Yifan over a century ago


	15. Caelum (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, Master Yixing. I am your new Companion.”
> 
> (Sex slave AU, futuristic, dystopian?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This mainly came to be when I wanted to sign up for yifantasy fest 2016 (yes, it's /that/ old). The prompt had been something about A's parents getting them a sex slave (B) as a means to control them or something like that (I can't find the actual prompt any more lol). It quickly grew way too big to be completed in time for the fic fest, so I just shelved it for like a year. I got back to it in like last 2017/2018 but I just don't think I have it in me to complete it anymore. It just got too big for me to handle (and honestly, the fanxing fandom doesn't exactly make it easy to want to post anything any more, sorry). 
> 
> FAIR WARNING(S): The is unedited and really ****ing long for something that isn't edited lol. There's supposed to be smut, and at the time, a friend was going to help me through it (BUT I FELL OFF A CLIFF AND NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT) so uh yeah, sorry, a sex slave fic with like... no smut. lmao
> 
> Welp. Enjoy the ride (likely to span multiple chapters) :|

_Prologue_

Kris tucks his foot in under his opposite folded knee as he draws open the blinds in his room, trying to get comfortable on the bare desk under the only window in the room. The lights of Caelum above him blink down brightly at him through the glass as they do every night when Kris sneaks out of bed after the Warden calls ‘Lights out!’ through the Agency’s dorm halls. He has lost track of how long it has been since his arrival at the Agency and the excitement of coming up to live in Caelum has long since worn off.

Kris nearly jumps at the muffled footsteps that echo in the empty hallway outside his door and his head immediately turn towards the glowing clock on the wall: midnight. His forehead folds but he doesn’t have time to wonder why rounds are being made an hour earlier than usual. The footsteps in the hallway stop outside his room and Kris freezes for a moment before he recognizes the quiet beeping as the code to unlock his door is entered in the key pad. Kris scrambles frantically to get off his table, barely managing to throw the blankets over himself in bed before the door opens with a buzz and the lights turn on.

“Wake up, GY-1107A. You’re being activated.”

Kris makes a point of pretending to have just awoken, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands for effect before he stands up properly at attention. The Warden doesn’t seem to notice, only throwing a bundle of familiar grey coloured clothing at him and then holding out a tablet with a portrait in the center of the screen. “You leave in fifteen,” is all he says when Kris takes the article from him, turning and disappearing as quickly as he showed up.

Kris stares at the retreating figure in disbelief for a moment before he remembers the file in his hand. He swipes past the image to find his contract details and he skims the information quickly before dropping it on the desk to free his hands to change out of his pyjamas and into the uniform in his arms. He continues to look through the information in the file as he walks out his room and into the hallway, almost walking straight into a guard who hands him a backpack that contains the standard package a Companion receives when he is assigned a long term assignment. Kris exchanges the file in his hand for the bag as he’s ushered towards the door. “The location has already been programmed into the car,” he’s told as he’s pointed toward his transport.

Kris freezes before his feet manage to physically step outside the confines of The Agency that has been his home for the last six years, during which time he’s never been outside.

“Do you need me to carry you?” the guard asks sarcastically, prodding Kris in the side in warning.

“No, thank you,” Kris replies softly, taking a deep breath as he finally steps towards the unrecognizable vehicle, hovering with its door open. He plants one foot inside the vehicle and, finding it surprisingly sturdy despite the fact that it’s a foot off the ground, brings the other one in as well, marvelling at the interior as much as he did at the exterior. The door slides closed soundlessly before a voice comes on to advise him to strap in for safety.

Kris spends the entire ride staring out the window, mouth as if permanently stuck half open as he takes in the endless buildings that seem to go on forever above him. The faded pictures of Caelum in the Agency library do no justice against the city itself, seeming to sparkle even under the darkness of night. He almost forgets the reason he’s allowed these great views until the car slows to a stop and the door slides open once more outside an unfamiliar building. Kris crawls out with moderate ease, nearly tripping when his bag gets caught. He watches the vehicle take off back to the Agency before he turns to the entrance of the building he will be calling “home” for the next… however long. He breathes in deeply, noting the air’s freshness and how it seems sweet; he finds it funny that though the Agency technically also resides in Caelum, the air seems different at these upper levels. He wonders if it’s a different filter system but doesn’t rule out the possibility that it’s the same air, and the mere idea of finally leaving the confines of the Agency has brought about a sweetness to the air.

Kris takes another deep breath before he approaches the building’s front door, hissing sharply when a shock of electricity pass through him when he walks right up to the door, having forgotten to identify himself in his nervousness. He curses under his breath, scolding himself for his carelessness until he finds the handprint scanner on the wall to the left. Giving himself a moment to calm down, he presses his digits on the scanner and lets out a relieved breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Welcome, GY-1107A,” the voice greets, pronouncing each letter and number robotically, making Kris wince at his official and registered name with the government of Caelum. “Please be advised that you are now registered as a guest, and that your visitor permit expires in 24 hours. Displayed is a list of house rules. Please present your hand once more to acknowledge.” The Companion does as he is asked and the field is brought down to let him into the building after the voice reminds him gently that all long term stays need to be registered with Facilities within the day.

Kris finds the elevator and takes it up to the 256th floor where he studies the numbers on the walls to find the right apartment. He intakes deeply and straightens his outfit before he finally brings his hand up to ring the doorbell, pausing momentarily to go over the file in his head before he depresses the button. It’s another moment before the door is unarmed and the apartment that is to be his new home is revealed.

“Hello, Master Yixing. I am your new Companion.”

 

 

_Chapter 1.1_

Zhang Yixing’s boots lock with a click into his hoverboard and he bends over to check the mechanism before standing up straight once more. He considers for a moment keeping his turquoise school blazer on but figures it’s too much of a hassle to clean up before the next morning. He undoes the two buttons on the front before shrugging the article off and tossing it vaguely behind him onto the living room floor. A double tap with two fingers on his left temple brings up his electron visor, projected by the upgrade Yixing had added to his implanted communicator chip. A map of his surroundings brought itself onto the display that spread across the top half of Yixing’s face and he blinks a couple of times as he searched for the nearest storm. A flashing triangle confirmed his destination and the map blinked out to reveal to Yixing his surroundings once more.

Ignoring the verbal warning his chip made about the imminent storm near his destination, Yixing hops up to the floor-to-ceiling window that he’d already reprogrammed to shut down at a touch. He takes a deep breath as he tapped the required commands to have the synthetic window flicker out of existence and with a whoop, he falls forward out of his apartment, his heart racing in his ears alongside the rush of air pushing around him before his board levelled him. It takes a minute for Yixing’s board to bring him back up to altitude so that he can turn his apartment window back on.

“Left,” Yixing’s navigational assistant directs vaguely in his head. He curses momentarily as he heads in the direction indicated, annoyed momentarily that he is heading into the sun until he holds a finger to his temple for a couple seconds to bring a tint into his visor.

A loud crack somewhere ahead of him brings a wide grin across his features as he presses forward.

“Five kilometers to destination.”

Yixing looks down in front of him, finding the storm moving more quickly than his initial estimation and he dives down quickly. As he nears the lower limits of the Caelum air filter, his visor flashes red before him, a blinking warning of his low altitude obscuring his vision. He gives the required verbal acknowledgement to have the warning minimize to the bottom and he pulls the collar of his flight suit up above his nose. “Personal air filtration unit activated. You have 28 minutes remaining.”

The altitude warning pops up again and Yixing dismisses it as quickly as he’d done the last, finding the head of the storm cloud, flashes of white against deep grey rolls. Another dive brings him to the edge of the fast travelling cloud and adrenaline pumps through his blood. His board draws up wisps of vapour behind him as Yixing tests the limits of his board, urging it to its maximum as he races the cloud.

“20 minutes remaining,” his suit warns. Yixing leans forward and reaches a hand out towards the cloud as he glides along side it. He can only keep it extended a second, the air pushing it back to his side as raindrops start to pelt him on one side.

The storm cloud seems to gain speed, the rain hitting him harder now and Yixing bits on his bottom lip as he concentrates on steering his board, his breath quickening.

“5 minutes remaining,” Yixing is warned, the change in his breathing pattern affecting his suit’s filtration capacity.

Winds threaten to topple him as he keeps his gaze fixedly on the patch of clear sky he can still see above him as the rolling masses of vapour threaten to bury him. He angles his trajectory up towards blue as several more warnings obscure his vision. He doesn’t bother getting rid of them, charging forward until he’s finally past 40,000ft. As soon as his visor verifies that he’s within Caelum’s altitude limits, Yixing pulls his collar down, gulping in large breaths as he looks down at the flashing cloud below him. He presses two fingers against his jugular, grinning at the rapid pulsing under his fingertips and he brings up his statistics on the visor. “Decent,” he mumbles to himself as he reviews his top speed and total distance, “Can’t say I haven’t had better though.”

Yixing takes another minute to catch his breath before a tiny beep from his wrist reminds him to head home. He gives the moving cloud behind him a wistful sigh, “Another day, perhaps,” he says out loud with a frown before he sets his board to a comfortable cruising speed back to his apartment.

As he nears his window, he can already see his father glaring at him with arms crossed and he lets out a sigh as he passes through his window and turns it back on.

“Cloud surfing is dangerous. And illegal at that.”

Yixing rolls his eyes, dismounting and leaning it against the wall before walking through the hologram and into his kitchen to grab a glass of water. He lets silence hang in his apartment as he drains the entire glass, the hologram in the middle of his room adjusting so that Yixing could see his father properly. He sets the glass down on the counter and wipes the back of his hand against his lips. His other hand tapping his navigation chip back into sleep mode and the visor disappeared so that Yixing could roll his eyes at his father. “And what are you going to do about it?” he asks, attention turning to his suit’s sleeve where a red light was blinking to signal that the filtration unit in the collar needed attention. “It’s not like you’re here to stop me.”

The projection frowns. “Your professors tell me that you are disruptive in class and do not pay attention,” it says, changing the topic of conversation.

Yixing shrugs as he pulls his suit up over his shoulders, arms out of its sleeves. “If they were interesting at all, I’d pay attention.” He turns his back to the projection so he can lean against the counter as he raises the flight suit up against the overhead light to inspect the filter unit.

A silence falls in the room, and Yixing narrows his eyes suspiciously; his father was never this quiet for this long unless there was something important. He turns around, putting his suit down as he crosses his arms to study his father as the latter struggles to find his next words. Yixing is mildly amused at how his father uncrosses and crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed together before he finally speaks again. “They have suggested that a Companion may help to regulate your energy levels.

Yixing raises an eyebrow, interested for the first time since his return from his storm chase. He chuckles, “Did they?”

Another pause. “What do you think?”

Yixing pondered a moment; he could certainly use some entertainment, “I suppose I am not opposed to it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The projection lets out a virtual sigh of relief, as if Yixing’s father had been worried that his son would put up more of a fight. Why would I be against it?

“Good. I’ll send you some options. I’ve already filtered through them; no son of mine uses second rate hand me downs.”

Another beep from his wrist reminds Yixing that he’s going to be late if he doesn’t leave in the next five minutes. “Whatever,” he waves dismissively at his father, “I’ll check it later.” He hits the button on the wall on the way to his bedroom, cutting off his father and whatever was going to follow the “wait” that calls after Yixing as the hologram fizzles into nothing.

-

Yixing straightens his jacket as he dismounts from his board, offering the latter into a receptacle in the wall that takes his fingerprint as well. “Thank you, Mr. Zhang Yixing. Enjoy the party,” a robotic voice greets as the receptacle retreats into the wall noiselessly to be replaced by another empty one, ready for the next guest. Further up on the same wall, another opening springs out to offer Yixing a translucent blue liquid in a tall flute. “I think I shall,” he answers to himself, reaching into his jacket pocket as he climbs the front steps with beverage in hand.

Locating the nearest counter, he sets his drink down to open the small case he’s pulled out. Seven compartments each housing a different colour look up at him and Yixing frowns as he contemplates which to start the night with. His favourite has always been the Violet and the stack of thin sheets clearly reflects his preference. He looks up to grab the nearest person, “Pick a number from one to six,” he demands, keeping the seventh - violet - off the list of options, at least for now.

“Four?” the stranger replies, a skeptical look on her face as she pulls her arm back to herself and moves toward the party inside.

Yixing hardly notices the look he receives, looking back down to his open case with a sigh. Green was probably his least favourite but he shrugs, licking a finger before using it to pick up one of the thin, inch long sheets. He opens his mouth to reach his thumb in to press the sheet against his tongue, waiting a couple seconds for it to dissolve against the roof of his mouth before grabbing his glass and draining it in a single tilt back of his head, rinsing the awful flavor (Evergreen, they called it) from memory with a small shudder.

Yixing has barely replaced the glass onto the counter when Yichun walks storms up to him, glaring at the case in his hand before he hastily shoves it back into his pocket. “Hey, sis.”

Yichun changes from glaring at her younger brother’s hand to raising her arm against his neck and pushing him back until he was against a wall, her eyes searching his. “Wow, seriously?” she asks with an exasperated tone, “You couldn’t stay sober for your sister’s anniversary party? You just stepped in!”

Yixing pushes his sister off him, pulling his collar in order again, “Well, like you said, it’s a party. And, assuming that Yijun and Yiwei are also here, I’m going to need it. You know, since they’re such a hoot to party with an all,” he explained sarcastically, “Almost as fun as Father, you know, if he ever bothered showing up to these things.” He eyes a Coral-coat carrying a fresh tray of beverages and he starts towards them, his sister falling into step beside him.

Yichun frowns, “You know he’s busy, keeping the lights on in Caelum,” she defends, “And speaking of father, I hear he’s getting you a Companion.”

Yixing shrugs as he picks up a fresh drink. “He’s under the impression that it’ll help me focus in school.”

Yichun laughs as she takes the glass Yixing offers her, “Yeah, that’ll be the day. You picked on yet?”

“Nope, or would you have preferred me to be late coming here?”

Yichun narrows her eyes, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Yixing makes a face that says ‘told you so’ before taking a sip of his drink, “See? I’ll take a look later. Now quit nagging me, you’re my sister, not my mother.”

Yichun scowls at the comparison but lets Yixing off with another warning about the sheets of Laeta in his pocket. “Don’t let Yijun catch you with that. I prefer to have all my brothers alive,” she reminds as she heads into the thick of guests.

By the time Yixing manages to track down his next drink, Lu Han and Huang Zitao have both made an appearance, showing up nearly the same time. “I swear, everytime I see her, Yichun gets hotter,” the younger remarks, earning himself a sturdy smack across the head.

“That’s my sister you’re checking out right now, stop it,” Yixing scowls, getting a little red in the face, as he always did when someone comments on his sister’s appearance.

Zitao mouths an expression of pain, rubbing a hand where Yixing’s hand had made contact with the back of his head. “Okay, well, am I allowed to comment on her wife? Because damn, Yawhen is possibly hotter than your sister.”

Yixing reaches out to hit Zitao again, but his hand collides with air as Zitao deftly avoids him, shrinking behind Lu Han. Yixing looks to Lu Han for support but only receives a shrug, “Hey, don’t look at me, I’m with Zitao on this one.”

Yixing lets out a groan, wondering (as he often did) why he was friends with these two as he downs the rest of his drink. He rolls his eyes and heads towards the bar for another, ignoring his best friend’s laughter ringing after him.

***

Yixing blinks into consciousness late in the afternoon, finding himself sitting in his classroom with his professor going on about something called ‘magnetic flux’. He struggles to remember what happened after he left Lu Han and Zitao for another drink. Looking down at himself and finding all his limbs properly attached, he deigns to believe that he hadn’t run into his brothers the previous night, or, alternatively, if he had, he’d been passable enough for them not the notice the effects of the Laeta. Yixing also can’t recall the morning’s classes either and decides that he must’ve taken at least a third sheet for him to wake in the afternoon.

What baffles Yixing the most is the fact that he’s actually wearing his school uniform and sitting in class. He turns around to find Lu Han in his usual seat across the room, taking proper notes as their professor continued to speak, his back turned to Yixing. For the next hour, Yixing doesn’t bother pretending to pay attention to the subject being taught, trying (with no result) to get Lu Han’s attention so he can figure out what had transpired the previous night and how he’d gotten here; when Yixing’s had more than two Laeta, he is more likely to be passed out on his bed, not in class. That or, like that one time, running lengths along an alley with no real destination in mind.

“I have absolutely no idea what the hell he was talking about,” Yixing reveals as he waits for Lu Han to pack away his learning tablet.

Lu Han laughs, “When do you ever? Welcome back, by the way.”

Yixing ignores the jab at his study skills. “Where’s Zitao?” he asks instead, noting the younger’s lack of presence when he’d been trying to get Lu Han’s attention in the last hour.

“One of my family’s Coral-coats is looking after him back at my place. And you,” he slings his bag across his chest, heading towards the room’s exit with Yixing in tow, “I lost you about five minutes after you gave Zitao a GingerSnap. I’ve got no clue how you managed to show up to class today, in your uniform, and on time too. If you ignore that fact that you were still loaded when you showed up, you were probably the best student I’ve seen you be in your whole life.”

Yixing’s frown deepens as Lu Han answers his unvoiced question of what had happened last night; Lu Han was typically more helpful than this.

-

The School Escort Vehicle lets Yixing off at his building’s entrance, along with several other students. He takes the elevator to his floor and opens his apartment door to the sound of his Automated Domestic Assistant (ADA) greeting him. “Welcome home,” the voice echoes from his speakers. When he finds his hoverboard sitting in its base beside his front door, fully charged, he raises an eyebrow. “Hey, ADA. Call my sister,” he commands into the empty room, unbuttoning his blazer and throwing in over the back of his couch.

“Of course. Dialing: Zhang Yichun,” ADA obliges mechanically.

“Good to know you found your way home. I take it you’re not dead in some ditch then,” Yichun’s voice chided from the overhead speaker that now follows Yixing into his living room.

“Thanks for getting my board back to me so quick,” Yixing says, ignoring his sister’s sarcasm.

“What?”

Yixing stops in the middle of his hallway, eyebrow raised, “Uh… I’m not sure which part of that you need me to clarify. It was as a simple thanks.”

“Uhm, the part where I got your board back to you,” Yichun replies in a tone that suggests she thinks her brother is crazy.

“What?” Yixing echoes his sister.

There’s a pause on the line before Yichun realises that Yixing isn’t just making a bad joke. “You don’t remember last night, do you?”

“Clearly.”

“Well that’s what happens when you take too many drugs, little brother of mine,” Yichun berates, though with an amused tinge to her voice. “You took off halfway through the party. I have no idea to where, but you took your board with you.”

“Well, fuck, that’s not helpful, Yichun,” Yixing scowls, dropping his head to pinch at the bridge of his nose. 

Yichun laughs audibly into Yixing’s empty living room, “Good luck figuring out what you did last night. Is that all you called about?”

Yixing groans, “You are of absolutely no use, you know that, sis?”

“You’re welcome!” Yichun sings before she hangs up.

Yixing takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly. Sure, he’s no stranger to forgetting events of a previous Laeta-filled night, but some days seem to be more of a struggle than others. He continues towards his bedroom, hoping that a good nap will help with the short term amnesia. He stops abruptly when he opens his door to a tall stranger sitting in his chair.

“Welcome back, Master Yixing,” the stranger greets, only to bring Yixing’s eyebrows higher up into his forehead.

“Who the hell are you?”

Yixing’s alarm doesn’t seem to phase the stranger as he gets to his feet, “ADA, could you please play for Master Yixing last night’s events?” he requests, as if expecting this confused encounter.

“Of course.”

Yixing narrows his eyes when ADA obeys, turning the clear windows into an opaque screen where a video of Yixing coming home started to play. Instead of watching it, Yixing studies the stranger harder; how had this stranger gotten access to ADA, only Yixing himself had administrative control.

The stranger urges wordlessly that Yixing watch the proof for himself and the latter sighs heavily, realising that it is hard to argue against the image of himself dropping his board off onto it’s charging dock before jogging to his room. He listens to himself demand that ADA pull up the Companion profiles his father said he’d sent earlier in the day. He watches himself scroll through several images before stopping at the image of the stranger standing in his room now. Yixing glances over, not sure if he should be horrified that he picked this Companion while high, or be amazed that he managed to function so completely while high.

The stranger gestures for ADA to fast forward through to when Yixing had opened his door to welcome the Companion he’d chosen (Yixing had apparently spend two hours raiding his pantry and sprawling on his couch upside down and drawing imaginary circles with his fingers towards the ceiling). There’s a couple of minutes of nonsensical chatter before Yixing watches himself drag the taller into his room before pulling his shirt off.

“Okay, I think that’s enough, I get the idea,” Yixing remarks when he recognizes his own expression of ecstasy on the screen, signalling for ADA to stop the recording, the windows letting in sunlight once more. He covers his face with his hands, processing, before dragging the pair down his face with a groan. “Fine, do you at least have a name then?”

“It’s Kris, Master Yixing.”

“Kris,” Yixing rolling the word slowly on his tongue as he takes in the man before him. He eyes the Companion, noting his tall stature. “Well, might as well take a look at the merchandise. Go on, take your clothes off.”

Kris doesn’t blink when he nods, “Of course,” he acknowledges, undoing the grey jacket that all Companions wear.

Yixing starts to circle his most recent acquisition. His analysis is slow and by the time he’s done a complete three-sixty, he congratulates his past self for a good job. He takes a couple steps back to get a more complete view, knocking a heel against the couch behind him. He swallows a little dryly, noting the rush of warmth south.

“Alright,” he whispers, hands working deftly to undo the belt around his waist. “Show me then,” he commands, settling backwards into the couch with a grin.

“What would you li-”

“Blow me,” Yixing interrupts breathily, his arousal pressing against the fabric of his pants, “Put those pretty lips of yours to work and prove you’re worth the money.”

“Of course, Master Yixing,” Kris answers, stepping forwards and kneeling in front of Yixing.

***

Yixing hops off the School Escort Vehicle onto the school’s front steps, a little disgruntled with Kris in tow.

“I shall wait here,” Kris says flatly as they reach the double doors.

“Whatever,” Yixing responds, storming past him without another word until he bumps into Lu Han, who’s first words are, “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“What the hell are you on about?” Yixing snaps, already annoyed about Kris enforcing his father’s wishes; he doesn’t particularly have time for Lu Han’s usual snarkiness.

“I mean,” Lu Han pauses to look at his watch dramatically, “There’s still half an hour until classes start, and my perpetually tardy Yixing would never be here already.” He narrows his eyes suspiciously at Yixing, “Why are you here?”

Yixing groans, reminded once more of Kris’ primary directive. “You can blame Father,” he starts to explain.

Lu Han keeps quiet and attentive as Yixing explains the details of Kris’ role as Yixing’s companion, waiting until Yixing is done before he frowns, “You picked one without me?”

Yixing can’t help the way his jaw drops slightly, a little incredulous that of the entirety of his story, the fact that Yixing had decided on a Companion without Lu Han’s input was the thing his best friend wanted to discuss first. “Really? That’s the part you’re going to fixate on? Not the fact that I rode my board back to my place while inebriated, or the fact that I pretty much drunk dialed a companion into existence? And then proceeded to have supposedly amazing sex with him that I cannot remember but is very clearly documented on my cameras?!”

“Okay, calm down, Mr. Drama, because for one, you drunk dialing? I don’t know on what plane of existence that would be a surprise to anyone. Drunk dialing a booty call? That’s even more typical of you still. Amazing sex?” Lu Han pretends to ponder a moment, “Okay, you have that one, but really, that’s not such a big deal. I mean, I’ve got Minseok so…” Yixing makes a disgusted sound to match his expression, thankful that Lu Han doesn’t elaborate. “And then you forgetting it all ever happened? I mean that’s textbook Zhang Yixing. So really, if you think about it logically, the only thing of concern is how could you possibly have left me out of the selection process?!” Lu Han demands indignantly.

Yixing groans at the annoying reasonable explanation (as was Lu Han’s specialty). “I was high okay?”

“Yeah, apparently, you’re just a shit friend when you get fucked up, leaving your friends behind to buy yourself a sex slave. That you bring to school. The hell is up with that, by the way?”

Yixing shrugs, “Well, might as well make the best of this, no? I mean, lunch breaks are an hour long.”

“It’s still weird that a sex slave is making you do shit. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“He’s a Companion,” Yixing corrects immediately, hating how vulgar the term sex slave was. “And I already explained to you how he’s Mother’s most recent tool to making my life miserable.”

Before Lu Han can get in another snarky comment about Yixing’s arrangement, the school bell tolls and Yixing reluctant settles into his seat.

 

 

_Chapter 1.2_

 

“No. Shut up, Lu Han.”

  
“Awwww, but it would be so cute!” Lu Han whines as Yixing mumbles to Kris to wait for him back at the apartment. “It would be just like a double date!”

“Minseok, a little help here?”

The young architect pretends not to hear, excusing himself to take a call that Yixing is pretty sure doesn’t even exist. Lu Han grins victoriously and links his arm with Yixing, waving a goodbye to Kris that Yixing tries, and fails, to interrupt. “Don’t you go around encouraging the guy.”

“But then what would be the point of having a Companion if you can’t bring the guy around to show off to the world?”

“Show what off? That I can afford one? I don’t need him for that.”

Lu Han frowns, “No, just to share with the world the man’s beauty. I mean, you’ve seen him, right?”

Yixing scowls as the trio step into Lu Han’s private car, “I’m not sure which I prefer less, you checking out my Companion, or you checking out my sister in law.”

“What? A guy can’t appreciate the finer things of life?”

“Don’t you get tired of your boyfriend’s shit sometimes?” Yixing directs at Minseok as the driver heads towards their usual after school restaurant. Again, Minseok pretends to be busy, tapping at something on his tablet, but Yixing knows that he has been listening to the conversation given the ill-concealed smirk on his face; there is no way work would be that amusing. 

Yixing spends the entire ride doing his best to ignore Lu Han’s further inquiries on his Companion, choosing to focus intensely on his noodles, humming a non-committal response when Lu Han pauses. By the time the bill shows up on their table, Yixing is eager to leave. He doesn’t even check the content before he presses his thumb to the tabletop biometric scanner. 

“The account associated the Zhang Yixing does not have sufficient funds for this transaction.”

Yixing stares blankly at the red letters flashing up at him in bold characters.

“Did you get cut off?” Lu Han asks incredulously.

Yixing frowns, denying vehemently that it was the case, “Probably just an error,” he mumbles, though he can’t remember a time when an error like this has ever happened to him. He tries again, taking care to line his thumb up properly against the sensor outline, only to yield the same result.

“You totally got cut off!” Lu Han laughs way too hard for Yixing and he storms off annoyed to contact his father about what he can only chalk up to a horrible mistake. 

“Pick up,” Yixing urges into his phone, recalling that his father is supposed to be back from his trip. After getting an unanswered dial tone three times in a row, he shuffles back to the table. “You got this, right?” he asks Lu Han, grabbing his board and taking off out of the establishment before his best friend can provide a reply. 

-

Yixing looks up at the place he grew up in with disdain. He moved out the minute he turned sixteen, having gotten tired of his mother’s constant nagging. He has his prints scanned to open the door and he calls into the emptiness for his mother. 

“I’m assuming from the tone of your voice, you’ve discovered the difference with your account?”

Yixing pauses on the steps when he hears his father’s voice instead of his mother’s. “‘Difference’ is not really the word I would use,” he grumbles, “Where’s Mother?” he demands, “She should be back by now.”

“She’s not. Got delayed. Besides, even if she was, I’m the one that suggested the move.”

“What?” Yixing’s tone drops, a little alarmed that it is his father is the culprit. He’s always loved him more than her and he can’t decide how angry he is anymore. 

“But it’s not like you’ve really been cut off. Your account is just… being managed differently.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!”

Yixing’s father gives his son a stern look, “Language, Yixing.” Yixing only glowers further and doesn’t vocalize and apology, keeping silent until his question is answered. His father finally sighs, “Your assets have been temporarily been assigned to your companion.”

“What the hel-,” he clears his throat when his father shoots him a warning look, “What is that supposed to accomplish?”

“It’s to keep you from simply giving your Companion the slip. He’s there to keep you on track, not just some toy you play with when you feel like.”

“I really shouldn’t have agreed to this,” Yixing grumbles as he runs a hand through his hair before turning around and heading back out the way he came, not bothering to say goodbye. He doesn’t wait for the door to reappear behind him before he pulls out the case with a cursive ‘L’ stamped on the lid and picks a flavour at random before taking off on his board. 

-

“Welcome home, Master Yixing,” Kris chirps from the chair that he has somehow designated as his. 

Yixing scowls (for what feels like the hundredth time) at the sight, reminded of how strange it was that Kris slept sitting upright in that chair. He grumbles an incoherent response before he starts to peel off his clothes. “Bedroom,” he commands with a gesture for Kris to follow him, a verbal reminder to both just who is in command in this relationship, though the taller may now be in command of every last Unit that used to be in Yixing’s name.

(please find planned smut but not-actually-written-at-all-smut below SORRY) 

  
Yixing licks his dry lips at the sight of Kris getting undressed, “Ride me,” he interrupts, answering the question before it was fully formed. Kris nods obligingly but Yixing doesn’t like how the answers seems so robotic, “At least act like you enjoy it,” he grumbles, not sure if he intends for Kris to hear, but apparently, Kris does because there’s a smile on his face now, as he climbs on top of Yixing and reaches over to the bedside table for the tube of lubricant stored there. “Just give me a minute to prepare,” Kris recites, stradling Yixing as he pours a healthy amount on his fingers before reaching back into himself. Yixing bites his lower lip, almost wanting to ask Kris to turn around so he could watch but he bites his tongue, and reaches an arm out instead to grip Kris’ ass firmly as the Companion worked himself open. Yixing feels his own cock twitch as he watches the expression on Kris’ face, and though he knows that the lewd expression was for Yixing’s benefit only, he can’t help but grow hard at the sight of Kris’ half lidded eyes as he readies himself. He can’t tell what’s giving him that exceptionally dizzying feeling, the Laeta, the slick fluid that Kris was applying to Yixing’s arousal or the way Kris was doing it but his hips bucked up eagerly once before he had to remind himself that he wasn’t going to give this companion the satisfaction of seeing Yixing eager. Kris was the fucking slave here and Yixing was damned if he gave up any indication of his desire. It’s only a moment later that Kris has lowered himself onto Yixing, “Ready?” Yixing just gives Kris an annoyed sort of look and rolls his eyes, “Just move already.” Eventually gets distracted enough by the slapping of Kris’ cock against their torsos that Yixing just ends up reversing their positions so that Kris is looking up at him a little confused with Yixing’s hands on either side of Kris’ head. “I thought-?” Kris starts and Yixing interrupts. “I changed my mind. I want you to touch yourself.” Kris looks even more confused and Yixing smirks. “What? They taught you how to please your masters but never taught you how to please yourself?” He grabs Kris’ hand and guides it down, “You need your master to show you?” He asks in a whisper, almost a mocking snarl as pulls out and presses back in. Kris seems to regather his bearings and he works himself without further guidance from Yixing, who ups his pace, enjoying how Kris’ face starts to flush as he contracts around Yixing. He makes a point of coming first and then rolling off and then nudging Kris to go clean himself off in the bathroom where he can finish himself off if he wants. Yixing enjoys the slightly embarassed look on Kris face as the companion hurries off to do as he’s told. His eyes drift closed as he grins triumphantly.

***

Yixing frowns when his apartment bell tolls and he finds his sister waiting on the other side of his door on the security display. “Another fight with Yawhen?” he greets when he drops the door open.

“Well hello to you too, little brother,” she replies with a little more sarcasm than usual. She invites herself in, eyes searching as she blatantly ignores Yixing’s analysis; it’s the main reason she ever shows up unannounced on his doorstep every few months anyway. “So where is he?” she deflects, obviously eager to steer the focus away from herself. 

With a sigh, Yixing presses a button to bring his front door back to existence, the countless lasers at all angles providing both a visual and physical wall against potential intruders. He doesn’t even bother asking Yichun what petty topic has been the cause of this most recent disagreement between wives; he has long since accepted that Yichun will expect no questions and lots of alcohol before she crashes on his couch for the night. “I sent him for groceries,” he answers.

“Multipurpose, is he?” she remarks, amused. 

“He does my chores, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Hmm,” Yichun contemplated as she fell into his living room couch, kicking her feet up to string across the length, her head against the armrest. “Somehow, I always thought they only served a single purpose.”

Yixing lifts her legs up to take a seat on the other end, letting her rest her feet into his lap instead. “Father found a different use for him, so I’m just learning from him. He’s not a bad cook, actually.”

Yichun grins before she pulls her legs back to herself, crossing them under her as she shuffles towards her brother. “So. How is he?” she asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows. 

Yixing’s expression scrunches up, a reflection of his reluctance to discuss his sex life with his sister. Granted, they aren’t biologically related - none of them are, they were assigned to the Zhang family at birth - but they had still grown up together as a family. 

“Aw, come on,” Yichun whined, sensing her brother’s reluctance, “You can’t be the first one in the family to get a Companion and not share!” 

Yixing frowns at the pout Yichun tries to use in an effort to convince him. “That’s not a good look for a woman of your age,” Yixing points. 

Yichun narrows her eyes at Yixing who grins mockingly. “Ouch,” she says flatly before she smacks his leg and uses it as a distraction to pin Yixing against the couch long enough to blow on his neck, making him squeal before the manages to push her off him. “And that’s not a dignified sound from a man of your stupidity,” she returns.

When Yixing has finally recovered from the attack, he gives her a playful kick in the shin, “Ulgh, I dunno how Yawhen puts up with you.” 

“Well sometimes, she doesn’t. Clearly. Or I wouldn’t even be here right now.”

“What, you mean you’re not just here to visit your favourite brother?”

Yichun gives him another smack, this time across the back of his head, “Don’t get cocky.”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it? I mean, what would have happened if I had failed to convince Mother to let me live on my own? It’s not like you would come back to the House to get away. Which brother would you go to? Yijun or Yiwei?”

Yichun makes a disgusted look that makes Yixing cross his arms with a smug look, knowing that he’s right. “Okay, fine. You win this one,” she concedes. 

There’s a low hum before the door unlocks to reveal Kris at the entrance, holding several bags in his hands. “Ah, Master Yixing, I didn’t realise you were having company over today. Hello, Miss Yichun.”

Yichun snickers, pressing a cushion into Yixing’s face that he throws back at her when she finally lets go, “It’s not by choice. How do you know who I am?” 

“It is my obligation to be familiar with my Master’s family,” Kris explains before looking down at his purchase, “I am not sure I have purchased enough for three. Shall I go for more, Master Yixing?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Yichun replies for Yixing, whose ‘Hey! He was asking me!’ gets muffled under another pillow. “We’ll order in, my treat of course, for showing up unannounced.” She laughs when Yixing tries to fix his hair once he’s resurfaced and turns back to address Kris. “And because I can’t possibly make this pretty boy wander out on his own again. 

Yixing blows a stray hair out of his eyes, rolling them at his sister’s attempt to flirt, knowing she has no actual desire for Kris and is only doing it to annoy Yixing. “Just order something, will you?” He reaches beside him for his tablet and thrusts it into Yichun’s arms. “I need a drink,” he announces as he gets to his feet. “Want anything?” he offers Yichun, who looks up from menus to give him a confused look and a gesture towards Kris, not unloading his purchases into the pantry and fridge.

“Isn’t that what he’s for?”

“I’m not an invalid, sis. I can pour my own drinks.”

\- 

Yixing knows Yichun’s fight with her wife must’ve been bad when eleven drinks into the night, Yichun asks him if he’s got his Laeta, “I know you do. You always have it on you. Why are you keeping it from me?”

Yixing shakes his head and puts down the second drink he’s had all night; he never has more than a couple when Yichun is over, opting to stay decently sober to keep his sister in order, “You don’t want it, not really.”

Yichun throws him another pout, coupled with her best attempt at pitiful eyes. “Why are you such a spoilsport?”

Yixing laughs at the slurred words, wondering how that name can ever be applied to him where his sister is concerned; usually it was her that was the one trying to ruin his fun time. He’s glad as her eyes start to flutter closed, a yawn spreading wide across her face. “I think it’s someone’s bedtime.” 

Yichun mutters something incoherent and Yixing motions for Kris to grab spare linens from his closet. She lets out a small whine when he pulls out from under her to lay her down on a pillow. He draws a blanket over her that she pulls into her chin with a mumbled thanks before he bends over and kisses her lightly on the forehead. 

It’s a few hours after Yixing has finally settled into his own bed that he is awakened by clumsy movement on his bed. He opens his eyes groggily to find Yichun shoving his sheets aside to slide in next to him. “Your Companion is creepy, he sleeps sitting upright,” she murmurs as she pulls Yixing’s blankets around herself, leaving his toes exposed to the air. 

“Yeah, that’s his thing,” Yixing murmurs, still half asleep when he brings his arms around Yichun when she tucks herself into his chest. “It creeps me out too, especially when I get up to use the bathroom.”

“Why don’t you offer for him to sleep in bed with you?” she asks, words heavy with sleep.

Even though still groggy, Yixing grimaces at the idea of having to share his bed with a Companion. “Shut up and go to sleep already,” he dodges, “I have school in the morning.”

-

As usual, Kris is awake before Yixing in the morning, and breakfast is already poured into a tall glass, waiting for Yixing when he walks out of his bedroom, blazer falling halfway down his shoulder as he yawns wide. “Stay home and make sure she makes it home alright when she wakes up, okay?” he commands, reaching for the glass and taking a sip.

“I am supposed to ensure that Master Yixing-” Kris begins before he is cut off.

“Look,” Yixing points as his school uniform, shrugging the blazer back into place, “I’m clearly on my way to class and I will promise to stay the whole day if you just make sure she’s okay when she wakes up and gets home in one piece.”

“But-”

“You can call all my professors to check if you want.” Yixing notes the hesitation and sighs with exasperation. “I need to know that she’s okay and since you’re probably not going to let me cut class to do it, you’re just going to have to do it yourself. Besides, how am I supposed to concentrate in class if I’m worried about her?” he adds, even though, while true, it isn’t to say he would pay attention in any other situation. 

The last point seems to resound with Kris and he nods curtly, “I shall be there as soon as I can then.” 

Yixing scowls but doesn’t comment; he’s already used to having a permanent satellite shadowing him at school.

-

“Where’s you walking babysitter-slash-bank account?” Lu Han mocks when Yixing shows up at school without his Companion 

“Babysitting my sister.”

Lu Han raises an eyebrow, “Another fight with the wife?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’m surprised you showed up on time even without your little minion.”

Yixing shrugs, “Was the only way to get him to agree to looking after her since there was no way I could do it myself without immediately getting a call from my parents about my absence from school.”

Lu Han hums in agreement and there’s a pause before he pipes up again, “How do you feel about lending Kris later this month, for uh,” he clears his throat, “Minseok’s birthday.”

“What?” 

“Well, there’s this thing where-” Lu Han starts before he’s silenced by Yixing’s hand, held up to request quiet. 

“Nope, nevermind, please don’t elaborate,” Yixing mutters, not keen to learn about his best friend’s habits with Minseok in bed, “I suppose there isn’t anything about that in the contract. Just, uh, return him in one piece? I imagine fees for damages are likely ridiculous. Also, you owe me food that night, since you will have, as you put it, my walking bank account.”

“Jeez, you’re so petty. Pretty sure Zitao wouldn’t ask for a dinner in return if he was in your shoes,” Lu Han chastises.

“And I’m pretty sure he’d kick your ass for even considering borrowing his stuff. Or charge you actual Units for it. Or both. Most likely, both.”

Lu Han’s retort gets lost when the school bell signals for silence from its students. Yixing smirks at his best friend; he’ll take his wins where he can get them, even if he only get them because they are interrupted. 

-

Kris doesn’t make an appearance until classes are over and Yixing finds him waiting outside the front doors. A part of him had hoped that he wouldn’t have to see the Companion until much later during the day but he figures he can’t win them all.

“My apologies for the delay, Master Yixing. I would’ve shown up earlier but I did not want to interrupt your lessons.”

The apology should be for showing up so early, Yixing thinks to himself. “I take it Yichun made it home alright then?” he asks out loud instead. 

“Of course.”

Yixing ponders asking how the married couple was when Kris dropped off Yichun but hesitates. He doubts that the Companion could understand the complexities of their relationship; Yixing hardly can and he’s related to one of them. “You can just wait at home,” he says, distracted by the memo on his wrist that he’s programmed to alert him on storms brewing nearby. He sheds his blazer and tosses it to Kris, hopping onto his board and taking off before any argument can be presented. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're still here after reading /that/????


	16. Caelum (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really? You're going to put yourself through some more??? Be my guest I guess....  
> (Also, I realised I have a lot more characters available to me in a chapter than I thought so here's just a dump lol)
> 
> WARNINGS: Character death and off-screen non-con (and like, random non actual writing, but just plotting with poor structure)

_Chapter 1.3_

“A hundred Units says he’s going to give you a hard time about this,” Yichun whispers into Yixing’s ear as the two sit with the family, watching their third child join his peers with his professional attorney assignment.

“Only a moron would bet against that,” Yixing returns with a grimace, imagining the arrogant smirk Yiwei will definitely be wearing once the ceremony is over.

“God, was it this boring when I got my assignment?” Yichun continues, yawning for effect.

“No, it was more boring,” Yixing gets in before their mother turns to them with a stern expression, shushing them with a finger to her lips.

Yichun nods obediently and her expression straightens, but only long enough to watch their mother turn her attention forwards again before Yichun barely manages to swallow her laugh, a snort escaping. Yixing can’t help but grin either, nudging Yichun in the leg to tell her to stop shaking with laughter, or at least try to hide it better lest they get in trouble again.

-  
Yixing makes him scarce at the reception, opting to make himself sick with the food the offered at the end of the hall. ‘Sick’, in Yixing’s books, was still infinitely better than having to hang around his entire family, especially with both brothers present. He’d rather deal with his father’s rant about ‘family time’ later.

“This is where you’ve been hiding, huh?”

Yixing coughs, having choked at Yiwei’s voice right behind him. It takes him a few seconds to recover and he tries his best not to look disgusted at Yiwei’s amused expression when he’s done.

“Congratulations,” he says, pointing at the pin on the lapel of his new crimson blazer.

Yiwei makes a point of acting surprised when he looks down, “Oh, this?” he says, as if he’s forgotten that he’d just received the pin less than half an hour ago, “Yeah, it was pretty easy.”

Yixing only hums in response, not offering anything else as he looks away from his youngest older brother.

“So when are you going to pick a profession?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, I dunno,” Yixing strings together aimlessly, hoping that Yiwei just hurries up and gets the gloating over with already. He turns away and picks up a pastry.

Yiwei grunts, crossing his arms but doesn’t say anything.

Yixing lets out a heavy sigh before turning around to address his brother again, “What?”

Yiwei shrugs, “Oh, nothing, I mean it’s just very you.”

“What?”

“Well, you know, being the failure in the family and all, it should’ve been obvious that you had no idea what you wanted to do with your life.”

Yixing bit his lip, “Yep, there it is,” he mutters to no one in particular.

“What was that?” Yiwei leans forward, hand to his ear before he shakes his head, “Can’t even speak up, can you? So what is it that you can do? I mean, you’ve been failing so bad that Mother had to go and get you a Companion in hopes it’ll straighten you out.”

Yixing’s jaw starts to ache, teeth grinding together painfully as he listens to his brother’s spiel. “Are you done yet?”

“I feel sorry for you, but I think I feel sorrier for Mother, given that he never wanted a fourth kid, but Father wanted another daughter. And lo and behold, you couldn’t even get that one right. So please, what exactly is that that you’re good for?”

“Pretty sure I’d be good at kicking your ass,” Yixing bites, tone low.

“Doubt it,” Yiwei returns Yixing’s glare with a haughty smirk as he straightens his back to remind Yixing of his height.

“Wei, that’s enough,” Yichun puts a heavy hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around to face her instead of Yixing. She puts on a sweet smile, “Why don’t you be a good loser little brother and go find your loser friends?” Yiwei shrugs her hand off and turns around to glare at Yixing once more. Yichun’s smile drops and her eyes glint dangerously, “Or would you like to see if I’m good enough to kick your ass?”

Yiwei looks between his younger brother and his older sister several times before he grunts a couple expletives and takes off.

“You okay?” Yichun asks, a comforting hand on Yixing’s arm.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he grumbles indignantly as he knocks the hand away.

She looks shocked for a minute when her hand is rejected but she just laughs as she tucks it into her pocket, “He’s just being a shit. Ignore him.”

Yixing only glares at Yixing before he stomps out of the hall, ignoring Yichun’s calls after him and stopping only when he exits the building. He isn’t sure why he is so affected by what Yiwei said; it’s nothing that hasn’t been said before, and Yixing should be used to his heckling. There’s only a couple years between them, but Mother Nature seemed to think it was fair to make one brother a genius and the other, well, Yixing. His fingers ball into fists beside him, fighting the stinging in his eyes for a minute before he digs his hands into his jacket pocket. He pops the lid open and licking all four fingers, he picks up just as many Laeta sheets and has them in his mouth before he hops onto his parked board and heads home. 

***

“Kris!” Yixing yells from the outer side of his apartment door. “Kris, I forgot the combination for my door, let me in!” he continues, leaning his head into his arm where it rested on the doorframe. “Goddammit, Kris!”

“Master Yixing?” the Companion greets when the door is finally open.

“Took you fucking long enough,” Yixing grumbles, thrusting the board forward into the Companion’s arm and pulling himself off the door frame. He looks up to find Kris with a slightly bewildered look on his face and he frowns, “A pretty face like that should smile more,” he exclaims, stumbling forward a little and reaching his thumbs up to pull the corners of the Companion’s lips upwards. “See? Better?”

“Master Yixing, are you quite alright?” Kris asks with concern when Yixing trips and falls into him.

“Mmhmm,” Yixing slurs, walking a couple fingers up Kris’ torso before they curl around the grey collar. “You are really hot,” he announces, as if he hasn’t known this since he saw the file on the Companion. Yixing blinks up at him, reaching his fingers into the thick hair before pulling Kris down towards him. He manages a clumsy kiss before he jumps up to wrap his legs around Kris’ waist. The added weight throws Kris off and he stumbles backwards, stopping only when Yixing reaches a hand out against the wall behind the companion, giggling as Kris stabilizes himself. He presses his hands on each side of Kris’ face, bringing him into another kiss, eyes fluttering closed as the latter deepens it, lips parting to let Yixing in.

When Yixing pulls away, he gets a confused look from Kris. His breath quickens and he struggles to catch it, a hand clawing at his shirt.

“Master Yixing, are you alright?” Kris asks again, his eyebrows furrowing together, brushing a hair out of Yixing’s eye, finger coming away wet with the other’s sweat.

“Just…” Yixing gasps, “Give me a minute.” He legs untangle from around Kris and they find the floor, barely. He fumbles to grab purchase of Kris sleeve, or shirt, or anything, but his fingers only close around air, his vision blurring when he tries to focus.

“Whoa, hey hey, I got you,” Kris whispers, wrapping a strong arm around Yixing to try to hold him up. “Okay, let’s just take a seat, yeah?”

Yixing nods weakly, feeling his mouth dry up as he swallows in between quick and shallow breaths. He moves, drags himself towards the couch with Kris’ help, eyes closing in hopes that his living room stops spinning. His fingers tighten into Kris’ shirt, pulling it down as he struggled to stay upright. He can feel himself shivering but he feels intensely hot, not cold. “Kris,” he pants, foot slipping again, “I can’t…” he stops, not sure what it is that ‘he can’t’ do. He swallows dryly again, struggling to keep his eyes open but finally letting them close, the strength in his knees leaving him.

Kris catches Yixing when his knees buckle, and before the latter can hit the floor, Kris positions the arm not wrapped around Yixing behind the knees and he picks the other up in a single swift movement. Yixing lets out a soft whine when Kris finally sets him down on the couch. The ceiling swirls a combination of blinding white and ash grey above Yixing and he squeezes his eyes shut again. “Kris?” he asks into the room, voice shaking.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Yixing feels a sheet get thrown over him and he instinctively draws it around himself. “Water?” A hand reaches under his neck and applies enough pressure to pull Yixing up, a glass pressed gently to his lips. He manages a couple sips but he barely manages to swallow, his throat seeming to close up on him with every breath he takes. He pushes Kris’ hand aside to reach to his head where it throbs painfully and he lets out a long whine.

“ADA, I need you to call Master Yixing’s sister.” Kris urgent tone is the last thing Yixing hears before he loses consciousness.

-

Yixing opens his eyes to find the familiar ceiling light of his bedroom staring down at him. He groans at the movement, arms feeling like lead as he brings his hand up to press against his forehead. It’s then that he notices the transparent tube attached to the back of his hand. “What?” he asks out loud to find his voice thin and scratchy. His other hand moves to his throat and he swallows, inspecting the needle sticking out of his hand. He wiggles the fingers, watching the thin line protruding out of his skin shift. His mouth tastes salty and it takes too much effort to pull himself upright. His eyes follow the tube to a bag of saline hanging beside his bed, the solution dripping slowly.

“You’re up,” Kris greets, getting to his feet from where he’d been seated. He rubs his eyes, clearly having just woken, evident in the way he hides a yawn behind his hand. He picks up a glass from the bedside table, and Yixing takes it with a shaking hand, spilling it onto himself before Kris steadies it with his own. “Slowly,” he urges, pulling the glass back when Yixing gets too eager and chokes.

Yixing doesn’t bother acknowledging it, a snarl slipping out when he realises he’s being babied. “What happened?” he demands roughly.

“Your sister says it was an overdose, took too much Laeta,” Kris explains calmly.

“My sister?” Yixing asks, bewildered and embarassed.

“I called her when you passed out. She left just a little while ago, had to get back to the hospital.”

Yixing glares at Kris, “I didn’t ask you to do that.” He watches Kris’ Adam’s Apple bob up and down as he swallows.

“I know,” Kris whispers, but he doesn’t apologize like Yixing expects him to. “You feeling better?” he asks instead, reaching to take Yixing’s hand, his thumb sweeping slowly over the spot where the needle sticks out.

Yixing’s eyebrows furrow together at the unfamiliar sensation, annoyed that he finds it… comforting. He pulls his hand back to himself quickly and looks away. “I’m hungry,” he grumbles.

The small sigh from Kris doesn’t go unnoticed before he gets up, commanding the windows to be tinted as he leaves the room. “I’ll make you something to eat. Try to get some rest, okay?”

-

Yixing wakes to a quiet but steady ringing. “Incoming call: Zhang Yichun,” ADA informs him.

“Yeah, okay,” Yixing acknowledges, pulling himself up against his pillows.

“Ah, you’re alive,” Yichun’s voice echoes into his room, making Yixing cringe before he commands ADA to take the volume down a couple levels.

“Yeah. I think I supposed to say thank you?”

Yichun’s laugh twinkles, “You should thank Kris, he’s the one that called me.”

At the mention of his Companion’s name, Yixing looks around to the chair where Kris had been the last time he woke only to find it empty. The table next to the bed holds the glass of water that was there before, now accompanied by a plate. “Yeah,” is all Yixing says as he lifts the lid to find a luke-warm meal that Kris must’ve brought in when Yixing was still asleep. He reaches the other hand to reach for a piece, only to get interrupted with a sharp pain, reminding him of the needle still in his hand. He groans, “Can I take this damn needle out yet?!”

There’s a pause on the line, and Yixing hopes it because Yichun is checking something related to his question. “Yeah, just… don’t yank it out, okay? Maybe Kris can help you.”

Yixing scoffs at the suggestion; he doesn’t need a Companion to take a needle out. He peels back the tape holding it in place, hissing as he slowly pulls the metal tip out.

“Quit being such a baby,” Yichun belittles.

“Shut up, Yichun.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say to someone who pretty much saved your life, little brother.”

“I already thanked you earlier, didn’t I?!” Yixing rubs the spot where the needle was, a small red dot in its place. He gives it a rub, getting used to just his bones in his hand again. The red smears a little and when he’s satisfied that he’s not still bleeding, he reaches into the plate and feeds himself a piece of chicken, cooled but still delicious. “You still at work?”

“Yeah, there’s a patient here… he’s… well, it’s just a difficult case is all.”

“A difficult case that the great Doctor Zhang Yichun can’t figure out?”

“Don’t mock me, Yixing, or maybe I won’t save you next time.”

“Are you suggesting there’s going to be a next time?” Yixing retorts, trying to forget how painful his head still is.

“I dunno, you’re stupid enough, so yeah, probably.”

“Fuck you, Yichun.”

Yixing’s sister laughs again, “I love you too, Yixing. I gotta go. Get some rest and eat something, okay? Nothing too heavy, though.”

There’s a beep before ADA announces the end of the call. Yixing drinks the entire contents of the glass, and looking for more, he throws his blankets off himself, grimacing as he pulls himself off the bed and to a standing position. He curses, hating how weak he currently feels, having to grab onto the bedside table for support before the floor finally feels level under his feet.

“Kris?” he calls weakly into his apartment, every step towards the kitchen making him feel a little stronger, but he still holds onto the walls. “Kris?” He repeats, swallowing after, in hopes that his voice returns sooner rather than later.

Yixing finds Kris in his chair, arms folded and eyes closed. He lets out a sigh, noting the near-midnight time on the wall before he starts towards the fridge for another beverage to quench the seemingly endless thirst.

 

_Chapter 1.4_

Yichun's fingers are typing furiously across her keyboard when Yixing arrives at her office. Yixing hesitates to interrupt her focus but eventually knocks on her door quietly. When she doesn't respond, Yixing sighs with exasperation at her intense focus, knocking again and clearing his throat loadly enough for her to finally look up abruptly with a look of surprise.

"If you're not careful, you're going to get wrinkles," Yixing supplies with a chuckle as he settles into the chair across from her desk after leaning his hoverboard against it.

Yichun's reaction is immediate and her look of surprise quickly dissolved into a glare, "If you're not careful, you're going to get a faceful of fist," she retorts, checking her wrist. "I didn't realise it was so late already," she continued, cleaning the clutter on her desk. "This on patient is a real handful."

"I'm in no rush you know, you can finish up what you're doing first," Yixing offered, watching Yichun's harried expression with amusement.

His sister rolled her eyes, tappng several times at her computer screen before getting to her feet and shouldering her bag. "Oh, wouldn't you like that," she says, coming out from behind her desk to pull her younger brother to his feet. "Come on, Xing. It's not nice to keep your family waiting."

Yixing groans, but picks up his board once more and lets his sister drag him towards the door and down the hallway; it isn't her fault that their mother has a weird definition of "quality family time", a definition that meant a forced monthly dinner at the Zhang house where the family discussed mundane topics. "If we're half an hour late," Yixing mutters reasons, "That's half an hour less that we have to pretend to be a really happy and loving family."

Yichun sighed heavily as she threaded her arm through Yixing's, "Yes, but that's an additional full hour that Mother will raz us for our tardiness," she replies.

"Well, given how these dinners always last exactly an hour and a half because of her crazy schedule, we're already done dinner, and I don't have to pretend to care about Yiwei's new job at whatever shit company has taken him in."

Yichun snorts but quickly clears her throat, "He's your older brother you know. You should show him a little respect," she says, her tone serious but when Yixing looks down to glare at her, he finds her grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, that'll be the day," Yixing says sarcastically as they move into the building's garage.

"Oh, come on, I know deep, deep, deep down, you think he's just the best person you're ever met in your life," she says as they near her car and the doors lift up for the duo to enter.

Yixing scowls at her sister's amused expression as she pulls up the navigation menu to set the autopilot destination to their parents' home. "Yeah, I'll admit that the day you do the same about Yijun."

Yichun laughs as she settles into the seat next to Yixing, the doors closing with a soft clunk before the vehicle started to move. "Hey, at least Jun's quiet. I bet a million units that he also thinks he's God's gift to the world, but at least he isn't a verbal shit about it. I would put Wei leagues above Jun in the asshole department."

"The asshole department?" Yixing asks, an eyebrow raised in disbelief at her sister's categorisation.

"Oh, don't worry," Yichun grins, "You still take the number one spot on that list."

Yixing pushes her sister away from him with a scowl, "If you love Yijun so much, you should go crash at his place the next time you have it out with Yawhen, then."

Yichun laughs, "Petty, much?"

"Yes, do you know me but at all?" Yixing retorts, frowning when the navigational screen on the dash shows that they're pulling up to their destination already. "Home, sweet home," he murmurs, glancing through the windows with disappointment.

"Come on. Might as well get it over with," Yichun says lightly as the car comes to a stop and the doors open up.

Yixing frowns but steps out of the car, leaving his board inside. He takes a deep breath and straightens his shirt as he waits for his sister to clamber out behind him. "How do I look?" he asks, plastering a painful smile on his face when he turns to face his sister.

"Like you'd rather jump off the edge of Caelum without a parachute than be here."

The corners of his lips pulled up into a real smile as he laughed, "Perfect, then."

 

***

 

As it was the month before (and the month before that, and every month before that ever since Yixing moved out), dinner was full of strained conversation. Yichun was working with a new and complicated case, Yijun had just moved into a senior position at the company, Yiwei was doing well at his new job, and Yixing was...

"What is going on with you, Yixing?" Yiwei asks, cutting his steak daintilly and popping the piece into his grinning mouth. 

Yixing struggles to keep his face pleasant, a half-hearted attempt at a smile on his face as he picked up his wine. "Fine," he said curtly, eager to take the spotlight off himself.

"How's the Companion working out?" his mother chimes in.

"Fine," Yixing repeats with a shrug.

"Looks like you haven't missed a single class ever since you got him. Where is he, by the way?"

Yixing cleared his throat, resigned to the fact that he was not going to get away with another single worded answer. "He's back at my apartment. I didn't think it appropriate to bring him to a family dinner," he explained, neglecting to add that Yixing didn't think it was a good idea to have Kris here to allow his father to add even more side objectives for the Companion.

"Is he satisfactory?" she continued conversationally.

Yixing shifted uneasily in his seat, kicking his sister under the table when she barely manages to hide her chuckle in her meal. "He's... fine...?" he supplied, brain coming up short when he searched for another word. Why was his mother so intent on asking about Kris anyway?

"'Fine'?" his mother quoted, an eyebrow raised, turning for a moment to her husband who only shrugged in response. "I'm paying for just 'fine'?"

Yixing's jaw clenched, recognizing the condescending tone, knowing that a better response was required of him. He pursed his lips and put his utensils down, doing his best to keep his exasperation to himself.

His mother hums an acknowledgement when he finishes his practiced monologue, apparently decently satisfied with his report that she stopped pressing the matter, moving on to ask Yichun about her wife.

Yixing lets out a breath of relief and picks up his fork once more, though with a lost appetite for the fillet on his plate. He pushes the pieces around half-heartedly, hoping that it's to make it look like he's enjoying his meal. He resists the urge to bring his arm up to rest his elbow on the table so he could lean his head against his palm, knowing that doing so would encourage a scolding about 'properness' by his mother. Instead, he checked him watch and waited for the last twenty minutes to pass, hoping fervently that it would be without any further interrogations.

 

***

**(Character death warning. Also, there was supposed to be some stuff leading up to the following scene and I never got around to it :/ derp)**

Yixing’s finger traces the vine pattern that lines the walls of Yichun’s bedroom. He knows he probably shouldn’t be here; it is also half Yawhen’s room and she might not like him loitering in there. However, the alternative is to sulk downstairs instead, where too many people will come up to say words they hope to be comforting to him. No, Yixing will definitely risk upsetting Yawhen over trying to figure out what expression he should wear in front of all those people.

His sister’s clothes are still strung haphazardly around the room, as if she still lives here, and he picks up an emerald coloured dress; Yichun always liked the colour green. He replaces it on the sitting chair after a moment, careful not to make it too obvious that someone had been snooping. He ventures towards the vanity on the other end of the room, poking idly at the trinkets littered across the surface.

Yixing jumps when the door buzzes open, spinning around in alarm and knocking over one of the boxes, its contents spilling onto the floor. “Shit, Zitao, what are you doing here?!” He exclaims with a glare before getting down to his knees to clean up his mess.

“Sorry, let me help,” the younger apologizes, coming to his side immediately and crouching to join Yixing who only holds out his arm to stop him.

“No, it’s okay,” he declines, annoyed at the offer; it’s his sister’s things, and he’ll be the one to clean it up. “What are you doing here?”

Zitao gets up slowly, as if moving too quick might set Yixing off again. “I…” he fumbles. “Just wanted to see how you were holding up. You okay?” Yixing has to squeeze his eyes shut tightly at the question, repeated so many times already today that he’s gotten good at providing a decent response that doesn’t result in a look of pity from the party who asked. He doesn’t quite pay Zitao the same treatment, knowing that Zitao already knows he’s not okay, but trying anyway. “I’m fine, Zitao, go back downstairs,” he says, not bothering to look up. Yixing knows that Zitao isn’t exactly great at words, which is why two days ago, when Yixing learns that Yichun’s ‘difficult case’ is the one that will attack her during a session, Zitao’s fitness center is where Yixing goes to get the bruise that plague his knuckles today.

“Are you sure?” Zitao asks as a particular fallen piece in the pile catches Yixing’s eye.

“Just go!” Yixing erupts, picking up the necklace with a silver four-leaf clover pendant, a gift Yixing had given to his sister when she got initiated into her position at the hospital.

There’s a clamouring before Yixing is alone in the room again. He collects the rest of the jewelry messily into the box and replaces it on the vanity, stepping to the left to take a seat in the armchair. His eyes sting as he dangles the chain off a couple of fingers, the pendant spinning slowly in front of him.

There’s a soft knock and Yixing looks up abruptly, dropping his hand quickly and shoving it into his pocket along with the necklace.

“Hey,” Lu Han greets simply, his hand still hovering by the wall where his knuckles had rapped.

“Hey,” Yixing returns, annoyed that Zitao had left just to go get Lu Han to try his hand at comforting Yixing; Yixing doesn’t need any comforting, he’s perfectly fine. He’s glad when Lu Han doesn’t make the same mistake as Zitao, only coming in, closing the door and then settling noiselessly on the bed across from Yixing. The silence hangs in the room for a minute, neither deigning to make eye contact. “I’m okay, really. You don’t have to be here,” Yixing whispers, more to fill the silence than anything as he stares at the wall behind Lu Han.

There’s a hum of acknowledgement, “I know,” Lu Han replies quietly before quiet falls again.

Yixing lets out a breath, managing a small grateful smile towards his friend.

“People are starting to leave downstairs,” Lu Han says, but doesn’t suggest that Yixing go down to say his thanks or to say goodbye. It’s likely what Lu Han is suggesting but Yixing is grateful that he hasn't said it out loud.

“Yeah, just give me a second,” Yixing acknowledges before taking a deep breath and standing up. “Might as well get this over with.”

***

Yixing pauses at his front door, hand hovering over the key pad on the wall as he swallows. Lu Han and Minseok stand beside him, quiet as they wait. If Lu Han was alone, Yixing might’ve asked him to stay for a coffee, but Minseok’s added presence would only make it awkward. He sighs inaudibly, pasting a smile on his face as he inputs the passcode, turning around to face the couple when the door opens. “Thanks for coming out today, guys.”

Lu Han narrows his eyes and Yixing realizes maybe his smile isn’t as convincing as he’s hoped. “Are you sure you don’t want to hang out for a bit?” he asks.

“No, it’s fine. Really, Lu Han. You guys go home and have dinner,” Yixing suggests.

Lu Han seems to contemplate a moment before he sighs, “Alright, we’ll be home. Call if you need anything okay?” He reaches out and gives Yixing’s hand a quick squeeze before he ushers Minseok towards the elevator.

The moment the door buzzes back into life, Yixing slumps back against the wall, the day’s events finally manifesting themselves in physical exhaustion. His fingers reach instinctively to the inside of his black blazer, cursing when they get momentarily tangled in his tie. The case’s lid opens with a familiar pop and he licks a finger in preparation.

‘I won’t save you next time,’ Yichun’s voice suddenly echoes in his head and his teeth grind together painfully. He doesn’t even bother closing the lid before the case is launched against the wall, a hollow and unsatisfyingly quiet clunk before rainbow confetti flutters to the floor. His shoulders slump and he finds himself sliding towards the floor, a muffled scream behind teeth echoing off the walls. His eyes start to burn but he blinks the threatening tears back angrily.

“Master Yixing!” Kris appears, alarm and concern both evident on his features. “Are you okay?”

Yixing swallows hard, his head snapping up so he can glare at his Companion as he stands up. “I am so sick and tired of everyone asking me that!” He stomps towards Kris, pushing him back against the living room wall, “I’m fine!” he growls before taking the other by the collar and pulling him down for a messy kiss, teeth banging together from the abrupt action. When Kris doesn’t react quite fast enough, he presses himself against the latter, fingers clenching into tight fists around Kris’ shirt. He does relent even when he feels Kris finally wrap his arms around him. He reaches to link his fingers together behind the Companion’s neck, pulling his down further as he stood up on his toes. His kisses get clumsier still and he finally pulls away, having forgotten to breathe.

“You’re crying,” Kris remarks quietly.

Yixing’s frozen alarm lasts only until he feels Kris’ thumb graze his cheek and he pushes away quickly, stumbling backwards until Kris catches him again. He struggles out of the Companion’s hold with less difficulty this time, turning his back on the latter while he brings his own hand to his face. When it pulls away wet, he starts angrily to his bedroom, wiping his hands frantically across his eyes.

“It’s a perfectly normal reaction to a loved one’s death,” Kris tries to console, following after Yixing, who takes a seat at the edge of his bed.

“You don’t fucking tell me what’s okay and what’s not,” he bites out angrily, eyes boring holes into his Companion as he shirks backwards towards the headboard.

Kris rounds the bed to join Yixing, reaching his hands from behind the latter to undo the tie and a couple of buttons to pull the shirt off his shoulder before pressing his lips to trace a line up Yixing’s exposed back to his neck. “Just relax,” he suggests, pressing a calm hand to Yixing’s arm while the other slides from his waist down past the entrance of his pants as he continues to press gentle kisses across Yixing’s skin.

Yixing lets his Companion continue until he notices that he’s shaking under the taller’s touch, his eyes still tearing up and littering droplets onto his blankets. “No, stop,” he protests his voice rising, the first time since Kris’ arrival two weeks ago and it surprises both of them. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”

Kris seems to take a second to understand, both hands coming away slowly, “Oh, I-“ he stammers, “I’m sorry, I thought-“ he continues in a broken voice as he pulls back. “I didn’t-“

Yixing winces a little at the loss of warmth around him, “Wait,” he calls, pulling his shirt collar back up to his neck, “It’s okay,” he fumbles, trying to find the proper words as he wipes his eyes again. He turns to face Kris, who has already come up to standing, “Just… can you… could you maybe… stay?” He chews his bottom lip as he reaches for Kris’ retreating figure and catching his hand, “I mean, just… without the sex part?” Kris looks down at his hand before glancing up at Yixing who immediately lets go and looks away, face burning when he realizes what he is asking. “Or leave, whatever, I don’t care,” he mumbles before hurrying to bury himself under his sheets.

The mattress strains a little as Kris crawls in behind Yixing,”What do you need?” he whispers gently, hand coming up pull away the blankets covering Yixing’s face.

Yixing keeps his focus resolutely in front of him as he reaches behind him for Kris’ hand with his own, guiding it down to wrap around his waist, pulling the taller towards him as he presses backwards into the welcome warmth. “Just this,” he answers and his eyes close as he works on stopping his shivering, trying not to focus on how easily Kris moves to hold Yixing against himself.

“Better?” Kris whispers in a low tone that Yixing has never heard the Companion use. He doesn’t bother dignifying the question with a nod, only pulling his blankets up to tuck under his chin.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” Kris whispers behind Yixing, his breath tickling the top of the smaller’s head.

Yixing always wondered why people said ‘I’m sorry’ when a person died, like they were apologizing for something that isn’t their fault. He acknowledges only with a half shrug, “I’m… uh… sorry about yelling… earlier…”

“You do not have to apologize for anything, Master Yixing.”

Yixing flinches a little at the robotic tone, the line recited like the Companion truly believes that no apology will ever be needed from Yixing. “No, I do. It wasn’t your fault, I just…” he shifts a little before clearing his throat, not sure how to explain how frustrating his own emotions were at the time. “I’m just sorry, okay?” he finished roughly when words eluded him.

“Okay,” Kris echoes quietly before silence falls in the room again.

It’s another while before Yixing’s eyes have dried. He heaves a sigh that finally bookends the shaking but doesn’t make any move to get out from under Kris’ arm. “Do you have any sisters?” he asks, realising that he has no idea who Kris is, really. Yixing feels his Companion tense behind him at the question, his arm shifting on Yixing as if wanting to pull away. Yixing’s eyebrows stitch together, curiosity brewing as Kris lets the question hang unanswered. He shuffles a little to turn around, letting Kris pull his arm back to himself. He pulls the pillow back so he’s lying on just the edge with nothing in the way of his view. “Kris?” he prompts, trying to get the other to meet his gaze.

The companion swallows visibly, “Yeah,” is all he offers until Yixing pulls his chin up to face him properly. “I had a twin sister,” Kris adds with a broken voice.

“Had?”

Kris flinches visibly at the question and Yixing almost regrets asking. He swallows hard but doesn’t take back his question though, thumb brushing slowly across the taller’s chin.

“She… we… they put us in different Agencies. I... don’t know where she is right now,” Kris offers before looking turning his head away to look up at the ceiling blankly.

“Oh,” is the only response Yixing can give, unsure of how to address the longing in the Companion’s voice. “I’m sorry about your sister too, then,” he says.

Kris turns to face his owner again, eyebrows in his forehead in alarm, “Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

Yixing frowns, realising that he’s apologized in the same way he hated people apologizing for Yichun’s death. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his turn to try to avoid the other’s eye.

Kris smiles and presses his lips lightly on Yixing’s forehead, “Thanks.”

“For what?” Yixing asks, wondering what part of his interrogation about a subject obviously difficult for Kris warranted thanks.

“For asking. Didn’t think you cared enough.”

Yixing narrows his eyes at the answer, “I don’t,” he denies, wondering what brought on the question about Kris’ family in the first place. “I’m just… bored…” he explains weakly, though he knows if boredom is his issue, he wouldn’t be talking to his Companion at the moment.

“Of course, Master Yixing.” Kris offers another small smile that makes Yixing’s stomach lurch inexplicably. “You should try to get some sleep,” he suggests, hand coming up to wipe at the dried streaks on Yixing’s face.

Yixing hums, recalling Kris’ own sleeping habits, “Uhm, why do you sleep sitting upright in the living room?”

“Companions are not typically assigned long term and live-in, and when they are, patrons will organize a place for them. In this case, you never designated a location, so I simply picked the least intrusive option,” Kris explains casually, as if it is normal to sleep sitting upright.

Yixing frowns at the explanation, swallowing before turning away again, determined to hide the warmth he feels creeping into his cheeks at the suggestion he is about to make, “Uhm, you could… sleep here… if you’d like, I mean,” he manages before burying his face into his pillow.

Another quiet pause falls in the room before Kris snakes his arm back around Yixing’s waist and pulls up against the smaller. It’s an action that hasn’t been commanded, a first, Yixing notes, since Kris’ arrival at the apartment. Yixing is suddenly glad that he’s facing away from Kris because he’s not sure how to explain to the taller why his face is burning or why he shifts to find a comfortable position against Kris.

 

 ***

 

Yixing wakes up alone in his bed and he wonders idly if the Companion really does prefer the chair in the living room over a real bed. He doesn’t ponder it too long though, noting the time. With a groan, he shields his eyes with one arm, demanding that ADA dim the windows. He doesn’t move to get up, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realises he’s going to have to prepare himself for a school day full of pitying and apologetic looks from his peers. He gives in to the urge to pull the blankets over his head for another minute before kicking them off and finally rolling out of his bed. 

Yixing is halfway through brushing his teeth before he realises that he’s wearing his pyjamas. His forehead wrinkles as he tries to remember when he had changed out of the suit from the funeral. He concludes that he must’ve been too tired to notice when Kris changed his clothes for him last night when Yixing fell asleep. He watches his face turn red in the mirror and he spits out his toothpaste with irritation; why should he be embarrassed? It’s not like Kris has never seen him naked. He watches his reflection frown back at him before letting out a groan, pulling his shirt over his head, and stepping into the shower.

Yixing is still a little bleary eyed when he wanders into his kitchen with only a tower wrapped around his waist. “Mornin’,” he mumbles through a yawn as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar, averting his eyes quickly when Kris turns to face him, plate in hand and wearing an apron. 

“Good morning, Master Yixing,” Kris greets, setting the plate down, “I figured you might enjoy a warm breakfast this morning.”

Yixing frowns, trying to figure out what give the other the right to figure what Yixing might enjoy. He looks down at the plate though and swallows his argument. He takes the fork that Kris hands him from across the bar, hesitating momentarily when he notices there’s only a single plate. “You’re not having any?” he asks before he remembers that Kris never joins him for breakfast and now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t recall seeing the Companion eat anything, ever. 

Kris seems just as alarmed at the question as Yixing is, pausing in the middle of wiping a glass and turning to Yixing with a confused expression. “No, I…” he starts, but doesn’t finish. 

Yixing picks up a piece of bacon between his forefinger and thumb, offering it with an outstretched arm across the counter, “Here.”

Both parties freeze at the gesture and Yixing is the first to recover, shaking his head and blinking a couple times as if waking from a reverie. He frowns at his arm; what the hell is he doing? Kris is a Companion. What is Yixing doing offering a sex slave his breakfast? What’s gotten into him? Just because they might’ve had a conversation last night? He drops the food back onto his plate and pushes the whole thing away. “Nevermind, I’m not hungry,” he decides, tossing his fork next to the abandoned plate with a clatter. The kitchen seems to freeze, with neither party moving or speaking until Yixing finally breaks the invisible shackles, chair legs squeaking against the floor as he pushes away from the bar. “I have to get dressed for school,” he mutters, eyes low wet hair falling into them.

“I’ve received approval for your exemption from school today, and for the next couple of days,” Kris announces flatly behind Yixing, making the latter pause momentarily.

“Whatever,” he dismisses with a wave, “I’ll be in my room.”

It’s not long after Yixing falls backwards on his bed to stare at his ceiling with unfocused eyes that his wrist beeps. He stays unenthused even as he reads the memo, a cumulonimbus forming quickly and travelling faster still. He lets out a long sigh, not sure if he’s up for the physical exertion today but he’s on his feet a moment later; a whole day in his apartment with nothing to do but think about Yichun is much worse. He heads straight for his closet, towel falling to the floor as he reaches for his flight suit. 

Yixing already has his navigation system up by the time he strides out of his bedroom to the living room, the usual warnings about safety precautions flashing once before getting dismissed. 

“Master Yixing? Are you going somewhere?”

Yixing doesn’t bother with a response as he heads for his board, still sitting by the front door since the last time he used it. He verifies the charge quickly before walking over to the window, entering the pin to disappear the window. Back towards the open hole in his apartment, he locks into his board. He looks up to give Kris a parting smirk before he holds a hand up in farewell. The last thing he sees before he falls backwards off the edge is Kris’ racing figure towards him, “Master Yixing?!” 

Yixing’s laugh gets swallowed by air blowing past him as he plummets, his hair whipping out in front of him before he deigns to level out. Only a second later, the beep of an incoming call rings from his chip. Yixing rolls his eyes when his visor reads the call from his own ADA but he accepts anyway.

“Master Yixing! Are you quite alright?!” Kris panicked voice betrays the Companion’s worry, cracking into high pitched hysteria twice. 

“Just out for a ride, nothing to worry about.”

There’s a pause on the line. “I was advised by your father to keep you from cloud surfing.”

Yixing rolls his eyes, anticipating the lecture that will surely follow this new revelation about his Companion’s role in his life. 

“But, I suppose,” Kris continues, “If you are simply out for some fresh air and to clear your head, it would be okay,” he explains.

“Uh, yeah, fresh air.” Yixing jumps at the easy excuse, “Right.”

“Master Yixing?” Kris asks after another pause.

“Yeah?” Yixing prompts as he starts towards his destination. 

“Please be careful.”

Yixing slows to a stop, hovering 30,000ft above the Earth’s polluted surface as he considers Kris’ request, voice low and careful, full of concern, as if he knows Yixing’s true intention and that he isn’t just ‘out for some fresh air’. He shakes the feeling off; if his Companion knows that Yixing is off chasing a storm cloud, no doubt, given his father’s direction, Kris would be calling with a warning instead. He disregards the comment and hangs up promptly after giving the Companion instructions on how to bring the window back up.

- 

Yixing stares at the cloud moving towards him quickly but he makes no move towards its edge, cresting repeatedly. He has his suit’s collar already pulled up to meet the visor’s edge but he remains stagnant on his board. His focus moves to the dark buildings that reached up at him, below the slight shimmer in the air that indicates Caelum’s altitude limit. 

Yixing has never ventured past the altitude limit except to feel the rush of adrenaline as a cumulonimbus chases him; he’s always been told since he was a child that only monsters roam the Earth’s broken surface now, mutations from the heavy pollution. 

He isn’t sure where he gets the idea, but Yixing looks for the tallest building below him, and dives, keeping an eye on the advancing cloud, making sure he has enough time not to get caught inside the storm. Warnings go off incessantly and Yixing finds the option to mute them, keeping only the timer of his filter blinking just out of direct view in the top right corner. 

He hesitates before one of the buildings, uncertainty threatening his balance as he contemplates his next action. 

23:17, the timer blinks.

He takes another resolute breath before he advances again, slowly, until he’s a foot above the flat surface he assumes is the roof of the building. 

21:58

His boots make a click, unlocking from his board as he swallows nervously. 

21:02

Thunder roars overhead as he takes a ginger step onto the concrete, a scratch of gravel making him pull back up for a second before he plants his foot solidly, bringing the next one down after it before water droplets start to pelt his board, still hovering a foot off this new ground. 

20:44

He takes a tentative step forwards, followed by another, and then another before he stops again, head facing upwards to greet the grey cloud above him. The rain fizzles to nothing against his visor but he holds his arms out, open palms exposed to the falling water droplets that hit his skin and run down in between his fingers, a steady stream connecting him to the ground beneath his feet. 

18:35

His focus turns to a puddle now forming a few steps away and he stares at it, mesmerized by the ripples that spread outwards before getting broken by each other. A smile forms under his suit and he takes another few steps ahead, braver now that he knows the roof is solid under him. His jog breaks out into a full run as a laugh bubbles up, enjoying how the rain drenches him. 

8:27, the timer displays, correcting for Yixing’s quickened breath as he reaches the other end of the building. He stops to catch his breath, urging himself to control his oxygen input as he bends over. 

A flash of lightning brightens the sky and its accompanying deep thunder follows second later, a reminder for Yixing that he needs to head back up. He waits for his breathing to finally slow to a regular pace before starts back.

9:02

He steps back onto his board a little reluctant to leave; Caelum is too high into the Earth’s atmosphere to experience any of the intense weather changes that the surface is exposed to. This is the first he’s actually known what rain feels like, given his only reference is from pictures in books. 

8:33

He kicks up off the roof with a wistful sigh, promising himself that he’ll do this again as soon the opportunity comes up again. 

-

Yixing is dry by the time he reaches his window and a wide grin spreads on his face as he watches his Companion pace in his living room for a minute before lowering the barrier and hopping off his board.

“Master Yixing,” Kris breathes out, his shoulders dropping as if he’d been tense with worry. Yixing quieted the voice that tells him that the worry was for Yixing’s wellbeing. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges before docking his hoverboard. 

“How was your… trip?” 

Yixing shrugs as he heads for the fridge for a water, scratching the back of his right hand idly with his left. 

“What’s that?” Kris asks and Yixing jumps, startled that the other so quietly crept up next to him. His eyes follow his Companion’s to his hands and he stops moving them when he notices the red bumps. “Let me see,” Kris asks before grabbing Yixing’s hand, a crease forming on his forehead.

Yixing pulls his hand back to himself, glaring at his offender, “What the hell are you doing?”

Kris doesn’t bother to supply an answer, only grabbing the hand again, this time holding fast when Yixing tries to pull away again. His eyes scan over Yixing’s face, free hand coming up to push away stray strands of hair. “How long were you standing under it?” he asks sharply, eyes boring into Yixing’s.

“Under what?” Yixing shoots back.

“The rain!” Kris exclaims, as though his answer should be obvious, “How long were you standing under it?!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

Instead of providing a reason for his outburst, Kris grabs Yixing by the elbow, and with surprising strength that Yixing didn’t know the Companion is even capable of, he drags the smaller to the shower, flings the door open, pushes the smaller inside and starts the water. 

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Yixing shouts when the initial spray hits him like ice. 

“It’s acid rain, you idiot!” Kris shouts back, purposely sidestepping into Yixing’s only possible path out, “Ten minutes under it and you skin gets irritated like that.

“What?! That’s ridiculous! And how would you know?”

“Because I lived there,” Kris retorts, taking advantage of the surprise on Yixing’s face to step in as well. He reaches for the shampoo behind Yixing and applies it roughly to the smaller’s hair. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, tone coming down a few levels now that Yixing has stopped struggling under the now warm water. 

Yixing does as he’s told without another word, too surprised at this revelation to do otherwise. He looks at the back of his hand through the water, red spreading up from his fingertips and blossoming past his wrist. “How did you know about the rain?” he asks again, voice calmer now as Kris helps him out of his clothes. 

Kris sighs audibly as he tosses damp clothes over the glass door and onto the bathroom floor but doesn’t offer up an answer. His silence mirrors Yixing’s own, the latter opting to wait at least until Kris is finished whatever he is trying to accomplish now before trying again. 

Yixing has always assumed that nothing lives on the surface, it is simply no longer possible given the concentration of contaminants in the air. It’s the reason the entirety of Caelum sits in a climate controlled bubble forty thousand feet above the planet’s surface. Nothing is supposed to be alive below the five hundredth floor on these buildings; the elevators don’t even have the option to descend past that floor. 

When Kris is finally done his scrubbing routine, he finds a bathrobe to throw around Yixing’s shoulders and steers the smaller towards his bedroom, seating him on the bed before disappearing to rummage noisily in the hall. Yixing waits idly on the bed, hands in front of him to stare at blankly. His palms are red, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the rain or from the thorough clean; the itching has stopped though. 

Kris returns shortly with a tube of something Yixing doesn’t recognize and he takes a seat next to Yixing, motioning for the latter to face him. A viscous and transparent salve with a pink-ish tint squeezes out of the tube and Yixing pulls back when Kris makes a move to spread it on his hand. 

“I’ll be done soon, okay?” Kris consoles, voice low again as he holds Yixing’s hand in his own gently. 

Yixing swallows, eyeing the solution skeptically before finally nodding slowly. “Okay.” He resists pulling away when the substance touches the back of his hand, cool and tingling, it’s terrifying foreign nature contrasted by the comforting pressure of Kris’ fingers. 

By the time Kris has moved on to apply the salve on his face, Yixing’s head is flooded with questions about the taller’s comment about living on the surface. His focus stays steadfastly on Kris even as the latter avoids his gaze. Deciding that he’s waited long enough, Yixing finally reaches up to grasp Kris’ wrist to stop him, “What do you mean lived down there?” he asks, determined not to be avoided again. He feels Kris tense under his touch but he doesn't let go, staring at the Kris until the taller finally deigns to return the gaze. "It's nothing," he says. "I was confused." he mumbles almost incoherently, eyes averting once more.

The comment only serves to intrigue Yixing even further. His grip tightens but he doesn't say anything, waiting for the latter to continue.

Kris sighs heavily in defeat, his arm finally relaxing in Yixing's grip as he faces Yixing properly for the first time. "I don't know what's going on," he says vaguely.

Yixing watches as Kris' eyebrows furrow together and his hold relaxes when he realises thatsomething is troubling his Companion. "What do you mean?" he prompts quietly, hand moving down to wrap around Kris' trembling fingers loosely, hoping that it will comfort the taller. 

Kris swallows hard, his eyebrows furrowing together, "I mean, I don't know," he repeats, "I've never been to the surface, I was born in the lower levels of Caelum, but for some reason, I know that you were having a reaction to acid rain. And that the fix was to dissolve ______ in some warm water to make a salve."

"You're not making any sense."

"I know," Kris replies, pulling his hand to himself and getting to his feet to pace. "And yet I have these memories, but I don't even know if they're my own," he pauses to face Yixing for a moment, "Do you remember when I said I had a sister?"

Yixing frowns, a sharp pang hitting him in the chest as he remembers Yichun. 

"I don't think she's real," Kris says flatly. 

"What?"

"My file," Kris continues, "It says I was born in Caelum, and I remember my childhood with the others at the Agency, going to classes and learning the craft. But I have this one recurring dream where I'm chasing a girl with long white hair like my own, her laugh echoing in my ears as she yells something about hurrying or we'd miss out on dinner and Mother would be upset with us." He turns to look at Yixing once more, "Companions don't have mothers though, we are born like everyone else in Caelum but not assigned a family."

Yixing stares blankly at his Companion, "I'm not sure what to say," he says honestly.

A silence hangs in between the duo before Kris laughs quietly, "Please disregard my ramblings, Master. I hope you will forgive me for speaking out of turn."

The comment makes Yixing blink blankly several times before he clears his throat, finally remembering that this was his Companion he was speaking to, not a friend. He feels his face redden and he immediately gets up, keeping his head down as he makes for the chair in the corner in his room and digs into the inside pocket, swoling when he remembers he wated the contents in his foyer when he'd returned from his sister's vigil. Annoyed but not sure why, he pulls his arms through the sleeves of the jacket and leaves his bedroom without another word, heading straight for the front door, not bothering to make sure Kris followed suit; Kris was never more than severl steps behind him.

  
Kris stares back at Yixing a beat before he sighs heavily in defeat, hand dropping, “I mean I lived down there,” he answers vaguely. Yixing frowns but holds Kris’ gaze fixedly, fingers still wrapped tightly around the Companion’s wrist on the bed in front of him. Kris sighs again, “That’s where I was born and that’s where I lived before I was selected to be a Companion,” he elaborates, though it only succeeds in painting an even more confused look on Yixing’s face. 

“What are you talking about? How can you have been born on the surface? No one lives on the surface.”

“Where do you think all your Companions come from? Caelum? The dear President would never allow one of his own to be… used for that purpose.” His voice starts to rise and he turns away from Yixing, jaw clenching so hard that the strain of muscle can be seen under the skin. 

Yixing lets go of Kris’ now forming into a tight fist that whitens at the knuckles, fingers shaking slightly. He stares at the Companion, whose face has started to go red, as he tries to understand the words that fall past the other’s lips.

“They came for me and my sister when we were ten, put us in different Agencies to be taught to pleasure our Masters,” Kris stops abruptly, his eyebrows stitched together as he stares at something Yixing can’t see. He takes a deep breath and turns to face Yixing again, his expression calmer, “We were taught at a very age that the rain is not safe and needs to be purified before anything can be done with it. Stand under it any longer than 10 minutes and it gets dangerous fast. You were lucky,” he continues, fist unclenching to finish applying the salve to the rest of Yixing’s face, “Doesn’t look like it did anything but irritate a little. This will help too.” 

Yixing doesn’t say anything as he continues to watch Kris, noting how the thick eyebrows come together when he concentrates. He grabs the taller’s wrist again to stop him, and before he realises what he’s doing, he draws close enough to press a kiss against Kris’ cheek briefly. He pulls back sharply when he notices what he’s done and a daring heat rises into his cheeks as he turns away. “I…” he starts with no continuation in mind. He chances a glance back at Kris who doesn’t seem affected at all. The companion only takes Yixing’s hand and presses the tube of ointment into it before getting up and leaving. 

Yixing feels his face redden and he knows it’s not from the rain. He tosses the tube behind him somewhere on the bad and he swallows hard, hand instinctively reaching for his pocket before he remembers that he spilled the colourful contents of his case on the hallway floor yesterday. He groans at the loss, sure that after more than twenty-four hours, Kris will have cleaned it up already. He wanders to the kitchen instead and grabs a glass from the cupboard, filling it and draining it down his throat in a single gulp. “Kris?” he calls out when he doesn’t see the Companion and then yells the name louder a second later when he’s not answered immediately.

“Yes, Master Yixing?” Kris asks when he finally emerges from the bathroom, an inquisitive look on his face that barely masks the pink eyes. 

Yixing only hesitates a second to note the redness but looks away quickly, searching for his jacket, “We’re going out,” he says flatly before he heads to the front door, not bothering to wait for Kris.

“What?”

Yixing groans when he pauses in the front hall, “I’m hungry, okay?” he bites out, wondering why Kris was asking questions and not just doing as he is asked. “So let’s go.”

It’s another few minutes before the two are finally on their way to the pizza parlour located in the next building over. “Hello, Mr. Zhang. Your usual, I’m assuming?” the cashier greets when Yixing walks in. 

“Yeah, make it two,” he gestures vaguely behind him where he knows Kris is standing in wait, “And throw in an L7 special too. To go,” Yixing adds as an afterthought. 

The cashier punches at something at the screen after glancing at Yixing briefly with mild interest, Of course. Anything else?” Yixing shakes his head and the cashier nods, “I just need your fingerprint, Mr. Zhang.”

Yixing scowls as he waves Kris to him, pointing at the print scanner in front of him. “Your turn,” he mumbles, moving out of the way. The companion looks down and then back up when he notes the number, curious eyebrow raised. “Just do it, okay?” Yixing presses, chewing on a nail and gesturing towards the terminal once more with a cock of his head. Kris looks up skeptically a last time before he obliges, a lingering gaze on Yixing who has to look away, ignoring the curiosity in the Companion’s eyes. 

“You realise that a purchase like this… I have to report it to your father,” Kris remarks when they return to Yixing’s apartment, breaking the silence between them since Kris placed his finger on the print reader at the restaurant.

Yixing rolls his eyes, opening the bottom box and retrieving the familiar box inside, letting a long sigh of relief before opening it and picking his favourite out of the line-up. “Report what you want, okay? I don’t care.” It’s not like his father isn’t already aware of this particular habit of his. 

“Master Yixing…” Kris warns, but Yixing shoots him a glare and then ignores him before looking down at his finger again, swallowing hard as he desperately pushes his sister’s voice to the back of his head.

“What?!” Yixing practically screams, yanking his arm back when Kris grabs his elbow in an effort to stop him. “You’re my slave, okay? You don’t get to tell me what to do, or judge me for them!”

There’s a slight flicker on Kris’ face 

 

**(yeah my draft for this chapter just stops here without an actual end for that sentence. I don't really know what I had planned here, sorry :|)**

 

_Chapter 1.6_

Yixing is distracted the moment he wakes on March 20th, tripping over the corner of his bed and spilling his breakfast on himself. He doesn’t say a single word as he and his Companion make the trip to school and they sit in their assigned seats. ‘Headache’ is the excuse Yixing makes when Lu Han asks if there’s something wrong, but ‘stomach-ache’ is a closer description for the way he feels when he sees Lu Han wink playfully at Kris, though the last time he checked, his stomach shouldn’t be in his chest. 

“Is something bothering you, Master Yixing?” Kris finally prompts over lunch as he uses a napkin to wipe a cut on Yixing’s lower lip; the latter’s lack of focus that day had him missing his mouth and accidentally nicking himself with his fork. 

Yixing pushes away the Companion’s hand with a sigh, “I’m fine, would everyone please stop asking?” 

Lu Han looks up from his tablet across the table, one eyebrow raised skeptically, “Does this have anything to do with today’s date and your promise a month ago?”

Yixing chokes on his next bite at the suggestion, and he tumbles into a coughing fit to recover. “What?” he squeaks out indignantly, “Of course not, you idiot.”

The second eyebrow joins the first on Lu Han’s forehead for a second but he shrugs shortly after, “Good, ‘cause Minseok’s really excited.”

Yixing lets out a silent sigh when Lu Han looks back down to his tablet, scratching the back of head in contemplation; he hasn’t yet told Kris about the loaner he’s promised Lu Han and isn’t quite sure how to bring it up. He glances over at Kris, who still has a slightly raised eyebrow in concern, and he tries to sell a smile that only succeeds in deepening the creases in Kris’ forehead. Yixing breathes out another sigh, “We need to talk,” he grumbles, getting to his feet and signalling for Kris to do the same and follow him out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. 

“Is there a problem, Master Yixing?” Kris asks when the doors close behind him. 

Yixing swallows, wringing his hands nervously as he contemplates how to properly deliver the news. “Uhm, well, you know it’s Minseok’s birthday, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Lu Han has been very verbal about it today,” Kris remarks.

Yixing narrows his eyes briefly, not sure if it’s sarcastic mirth he detects behind those words. He dismisses it quickly though; Kris has always made neutral comments. “Well, you see… the thing is…” Yixing fumbles, keeping his gaze down.

“Yes, Master Yixing?” Kris prompts.

Yixing takes a deep breath and finally looks up, “Remember the day I told you to take care of Yichun and make sure she gets home okay?” he asks, swallowing when his stomach lurches a little at the thought of his sister. He waits for Kris to nod, “Well, this doesn’t really have anything to do with that except that while you were doing that, Lu Han asked if he could… uhm… borrow you... for Minseok’s birthday present?” 

There’s a flicker of something unreadable across Kris’ eyes as he stares back at Yixing. “And you said yes?” he asks after a long moment of quiet, his tone never betraying what he might be thinking or feeling about the matter. 

Yixing nods, hoping fervently that it’s not hurt that now flashes across Kris’ face. He frowns at his own concern; what did it matter to him?

“If it is what Master Yixing desires, I will do my best,” Kris says flatly.

Yixing is almost glad when the bell tolls to notify students that they have five minutes to get to their first afternoon class. He cites not wanting to be late for class to excuse himself, getting lost in the flood of students that streams out through the cafeteria doors. 

He lets himself get pushed, though he knows his class is in the opposite direction; he’ll figure out his way back later because right now, he can’t bare to head back towards Kris who’s still wearing that blank look that somehow makes it hard for Yixing to breathe. 

-

“Why exactly are you here?” Zitao asks with his arms crossed, a few steps back from where Yixing is punching at a bag, each impact echoing off the walls loudly. 

“I just needed a work out, okay?” Yixing answers, biting his lower lip further as he lands another. 

“You and I both know you have your own local gym and you only come here when something is bothering you,” Zitao retorts flatly.

“Nothing’s bothering me, Zitao. Like I said, I just needed a work out,” Yixing bites back, shooting a glare over at the owner of the training center. He catches the swinging bag with both hands, breath heavy with exertion, “Do I need your permission to work out?”

Zitao rolls his eyes and unfolds his arms, turning around and walking to the wall to grab his jacket off it, “Actually, yes, given that this is my gym,” he retorts snarkily, laughing when Yixing growls low behind him. “Don’t forget to lock up,” Zitao hangs a ring of keys on the hook that held his jackets seconds earlier. “I hope you work out whatever it is that’s bothering you,” he finished, with a parting wave as he walks towards the exit.

Yixing blows angrily at a stray hair that has fallen into his eyes, mumbling insulting names at Zitao as he leaves, though Yixing is sure his voice doesn’t carry far enough for the other to hear; even if it did, Zitao is hardly one to be affected by them. “Nothing’s bothering me,” he repeats, even though Zitao has closed the door behind him, out of earshot. He takes a step back to steady his stance again and brings his fists up, ready. 

-

Yixing winces a little as he unwraps the binding around his hand, the layers closest to his skin tinged with pink dots where his knuckles are. He wiggles his fingers to test the stinging before heading to the sink to run cool water over them. He really should have stopped half an hour earlier, but he lost track of time, too focused on his target. He lets out a sigh as he wipes his hands on a dry towel, the red putting small streaks that Zitao will no doubt heckle Yixing about in the morning. He blows lightly on the cuts on both hands and, deeming it unnecessary for further dressing, he grabs his bag and heads to the door, remembering at the last minute to grab the keys off the wall. 

The night-time quiet of Caelum calms him as he cruises on his board back to his building. The city’s dimmed lights guide him through the dark and Yixing ignores the instructions on his chip to take a detour through the local green park before getting home. 

Yixing lets out a sigh as he steps into his empty home, lights coming on the instant his toes touch the floor. “Welcome home,” ADA chirps. He groans at the chipper voice, glares daggers at the wall that displays a time past midnight and drops his bag next to the couch before falling into it, kicking his feet up onto the arm. It’s a long beat of staring blankly at the ceiling before he gives in to the voice in the back of his mind that reminds him that he still needs a shower. Another sigh escapes his lips before he peels himself off the furniture and stumbles a little on the way to the bathroom. 

-

He’s still dripping onto the floor when he leaves the bathroom, yawning widely as he rubs a towel into his wet hair. The light in his bedroom flickers to life and he stops in mid-stride, hand stilling on his head as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh. You’re back already?” he asks, having expected Lu Han to return his Companion the next morning.

Kris brings his hand back under the sheets, having used it to shield his eyes when Yixing first walked in. He makes an indeterminate hum before he turns to face the wall. 

Yixing narrows his eyes, towel falling unnoticed to the floor beside him, hand still hovering above him as he cocks his head to the side. The lack of response set alarms off loudly in his head; Kris has always been diligent in greeting Yixing properly, not with just an incoherent sound. And given that his room light turned on when its owner entered, Kris must have purposely turned them off, or he had been back before Yixing, making the lack of greeting even more suspicious. “Kris?”

Another hum comes from under the blankets and Yixing opens and closes his mouth several times before he mutters a ‘Nevermind’, wondering why he has the urge to ask the Companion if he is alright. He forces a shrug of indifference and looks away before starting towards the other side of the bed. He stops short again when he realises that Kris is in his bed. His eyebrows stitch together again; after the one night that Yixing offered for the Companion to spend his nights on his bed, Kris returned to his post on the chair in the living room. “Kris?” Yixing tries again, this time to no response. He takes slow steps towards the wall that the Companion is staring at, only to have the latter turn to face the other direction, a blatant effort to avoid eye contact. 

A wave of anger floods through Yixing; how dare a lowly Companion ignore him? He stomps toward the lying figure and reaches an angry hand out to grab Kris’ shoulder, turning the other towards him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouts before he realises that Kris is wearing a pained expression and trying to pull out of his grasp. His hold loosens and a momentary look of relief passes over Kris’ features. Before he turns away sharply again. 

The anger that spurred Yixing’s actions ebbs to give way to concern when he notes the red marks on Kris’ neck that reveal themselves. His finger barely touches the exposed skin before Kris flinches and retreats, pulling the blankets up to cover his neck. 

“Kris, sit up,” Yixing orders, quietly before repeating himself at a louder volume and articulating every word when the Companion refuses the command. He takes a seat on the edge of bed when he’s ignored a second time, silence settling in the room as he waits for his Companion to realise that he’s not just going to pretend he didn’t see what he saw. 

Kris sighs with defeat a minute later, finally emerging from under the cover of linens, red at the edge of his bloated eyes, as if he’d been crying. A sharp pain stabs at Yixing’s chest and he swallows hard, a shaky hand reaching for the collar of the taller’s shirt where the same red that he saw earlier peeks from under the cloth. 

“I-I’m sorry, Master Yixing,” Kris sputters as Yixing pulls the collar down a finger’s width to reveal more of the fiery bruising. “The A-Agency will send a replacement f-first thing in the morning.”

“Shut up for a second,” Yixing hushes brashly as he undoes the buttons slowly, fingers gingerly tracing each new mark that is unveiled. “Lu Han did this?” he asks, tone barely audible as he looks up to find tears at the corners of the Companion’s eyes. 

The Companion swallows hard before taking a deep breath, eyes pressing closed for a moment before they open again. “This body has been damaged, and as it is the responsibility of the Agency to provide exceptional products in pristine condition for our most valued customers, please fill out a Product Replacement Form and send it to-”

“Answer the damn question!” Yixing growls loudly above the monologue, though the evidence on Kris’ body is answer enough. 

Kris presses his eyes shut again, a tear slipping past, despite his efforts, “A replacement will be sent-” he continues, body shaking as he begins to rock in place, as if reciting a mantra. 

“Shut up,” Yixing hisses between clenched teeth as continues to trace the angry markings across Kris’ chest, vexed at his Companion’s continual refusal to obey.

“A replacement will be-” Kris repeats again, like a broken record with a deadened voice.

“Stop!” Yixing shouts, his voice echoing off the walls.

“A rep-” Kris states again after a long silence, before Yixing finally presses his lips against the former’s to cut him off. 

“I’m not getting a replacement, Kris,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against the other’s.

“I’m so sorry, Master Yixing,” the Companion finally breaks out of his repeating cycling, tears falling freely now and wetting Yixing’s hand that cups his face. “I am no longer-” he continues, pulling his shirt closed. 

“Shhhh,” Yixing soothes with another kiss, “This isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t’ve....” he trails, swallowing hard against his regret. “Please let me see?” he asks, pulling his head back and dropping his hand to close around Kris’, still gripping tightly around the fabric that hides himself. Kris doesn’t pull away so Yixing opens each finger carefully until the now-wrinkled clothing is released. Kris’s chest heaves once more with a shuddering whimper but he doesn’t make a move to stop the smaller. Yixing reaches out but stops a hair’s width away from the flaming welts. He looks back up, then down again where his fingers hover, and then up once more, his eyes apologizing in a way he can’t voice. The Companion averts his gaze and Yixing doesn’t have the will to try to recover it; this is his fault, he shouldn’t have gone along with Lu Han’s ridiculous request. 

Yixing watches Kris blink several times, tears still following a steady stream down his cheeks. Yixing wipes his thumb across the wet skin, frowning when the touch makes Kris turn away further. “Why did you try to hide these?” he asks in an imploring whisper. Kris swallows visibly but keeps his silence. “You didn’t want… to be… replaced?” he continues carefully, citing Kris’ repetition earlier. The last word draws a flinch from the Companion and another sharp pang pierces through his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t…” Yixing corrects, though not sure for what he’s apologizing. “ I… I didn’t mean for… ” he murmurs, finally pressing his fingers gingerly upon the red lines before he leans over to press his forehead against Kris, feeling the taller shiver.

Kris shivers under Yixing’s touch as the latter traces butterfly kisses along each welt, up to where the red marks reached fingers around the neck. Yixing stops, resting his forehead on the other’s shoulder, hand coming up again to outline the marks, remorse mixed with anger heavy in his heart. “I’m just sorry,” he says again, hand cupping Kris face and drawing him close to meet lips briefly. 

(spends night just holding onto kris to make sure he knows he's not going to be replaced. Waits until kris is finished shaking and asleep before he gets out of bed)

 

***

 

Yixing waits with barely concealed impatience as the doorbell echoes behind the door. His foot taps irritably as he chews on his fingernails, waiting. “Lu Han, wake up!” he shouts at the door, finger abusing the button on the way. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Zhang Yixing?! It’s three in the fucking morning!” Lu Han yells when his door opens to reveal its tired owner, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Yixing snarls, grabbing his best friend at the collar with both hands and pushing him backwards into the wall with a loud thump. With one hand still around the silk at Lu Han’s neck, the other lets go to form a fist, arm pulling back threateningly. 

“Hey!” Lu Han protests, mustering enough coordination to push Yixing off him, “Just because I’m still half asleep, doesn’t mean I can’t take you,” he warns, pulling his pyjamas straight and shooting a glare at his intruder. “Don’t I deserve at least an explanation of why you’re trying to strangle me at this ungodly hour?”

“You know why.”

“Actually, no, I don’t.”

Yixing’s fists at his side clench tighter, shallow fingernails cutting into his palm, and taut skin pulling open the wounds on his knuckles. “Kris,” he manages to bite out, a low growl as he continues to glare. He watches the name affect the way Lu Han’s confused expression falls, eyebrows stitching together as he finally realises the cause for Yixing’s loud wake up call. “Was it you, or was it Minseok?” 

As if on cue, the pair are joined by a third, “What’s going on, Lu Han?” a tired voice calls from the living room. Minseok yawns, eyes barely open enough to recognize the scene before him. 

Yixing glances between the two, and starts away from Lu Han and towards the living room before the latter puts a hand on Yixing’s chest to hold him back, holding his indignant gaze, “This isn’t his fault,” Lu Han whispers, stepping in between Yixing and the unsuspecting Minseok, not bothering to turn around to address the initial question from his boyfriend. Yixing’s glare continues to burn holes into Lu Han. “It’s okay, babe. It’s just Yixing. You can go back to sleep.”

“Uh, okay,” Minseok replies after a long moment, clearly recognizing the tense air between the other two people in the room. He opens his mouth as if to ask something, but he decides against it, turning back to slip into the bedroom.

Yixing’s gaze never leaves Lu Han’s, even as he peels the latter’s hand off him when they are finally alone again. “You’re lucking we’ve been friends forever, or I’d have already killed you for what you’ve done to him.”

Lu Han sighs before he takes his hand back, turning away from Yixing for the first time since he was pushed backwards into his apartment. He doesn’t reply, only busying himself with setting a kettle and grabbing a pair of mugs and a teapot from his cupboard. “If he meant so much to you, why’d you lend him to me?” He asks, voice calm like Yixing didn’t just attack him minutes ago, as he slides a steaming cup across the counter, inviting Yixing to take a seat as he picks up the second cup for himself. 

Yixing continues to glare until his best friend rolls his eyes, gesturing towards the seat again. He stands still for another moment before he finally sighs and deigns to take the chair. “I didn’t know,” he admits in a low whisper, fingers wrapping around the warm beverage. 

Lu Han makes an acknowledging humming sound but doesn’t say anything, waiting for Yixing to continue when he’s ready. He takes a quiet sip of his tea and pulls up a chair to sit down next to Yixing who sighs long as he leans over, resting his head on the other’s shoulder, “What am I going to do?”

 

***

 

It’s nearly daybreak when Yixing finally steps through his own front door, whispering a command for ADA to keep the lights dim as he makes his way back to his bedroom. 

Yixing takes care not to jostle the bed too much as he climbs in, pulling the blankets carefully over him as he settles back in. Kris stirs anyway, turning inwards until his nose is a hair’s width from Yixing, his soft breath tickling the smaller’s nose and sending a tremor up his back. Yixing feels his face redden as his Companion remains unconscious and oblivious to their proximity. 

Yixing has never seen Kris sleep, what with the former always waiting for his ‘master’ to fall asleep before he does so himself, waking up before Yixing to prepare breakfast every morning. Yixing takes the opportunity to study Kris’ face, frowning at the creases on the Companion’s forehead; what does the Companion dream of that causes that stressed expression? He chances pulling his hand out from under the sheets, arm hovering over himself when Kris stirs again, shifting a little on his pillow but still asleep and facing Yixing. When Kris is still again, Yixing lets out his held breath and reaches forward, placing his hand gently on the other’s jaw, thumb tracing an invisible circle on the soft skin of the cheek as the creases on the forehead unfold. 

A small smile creeps onto Yixing’s lips as he watches Kris, feeling each breath the latter takes under his fingertips. He comes up on his free elbow, leaning forward until he can press his lips on Kris’, a warmth flooding into his chest as he pull back again. 

It’s a second before Yixing realises that Kris had woken up, his gaze fixed steadily on Yixing who freezes. 

“I-” Yixing stutters when he finally realises when he’s done, face burning at being found out, “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he gets out before noting that his hand still rests on Kris face. “I’m sorry,” he stammers, hastily pulling it back to himself. 

Kris is faster, grabbing Yixing’s hand before it can fully retract, “It’s okay,” he whispers, bringing the hand back to it’s original position, making Yixing’s face feel hotter than he ever thought possible when Kris closes his eyes and presses his cheek into Yixing’s tense palm. It’s then that Yixing realises his pulse racing, and he swallows hard, feeling like his heart is trying to push up through his throat. His breathing picks up, every muscle in his body tense when Kris opens his eyes to stare back at him again, his expression not betraying anything. 

Yixing swallows again after another beat, letting the muscles in his arm finally relax again, thumb back to tracing along Kris’ cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asks in a soft voice, afraid if he speaks too loudly, the moment might shatter. 

Kris’ hand falls from on top of Yixing’s, his eyes shifting away as he swallows visibly. “I’m okay,” Kris whispers, his conflicted expression sending a sharp pain into the smaller’s chest. “How are you?”

Yixing almost laughs; it seems so like Kris to ask Yixing is he’s okay, when it’s Kris himself who’s suffered. Instead, he kisses Kris again before pulling back and pressing his forehead to the other’s. “I’m good,” he whispers, grinning when Kris’ face flares up as red as Yixing’s must’ve been only a few minutes ago. “Let’s not go to school today,” he announces, wishing he didn’t when he Kris pulls his hand away. 

“It’s my job to make sure Master Yixing attends all his classes,” Kris replies, voice robotic and practiced. 

Yixing frowns, “I’m not going to make you come with me and chance you have to see… Not after last night...” he pauses when Kris looks away again and he clears his throat before continuing, “And I’m definitely not going by myself and leaving you alone either,” he finishes, finding Kris’ hand with his own and grabbing onto it tightly. He watches Kris swallow hard again and Yixing’s fingers find their way in between Kris’. “We can do anything you want instead,” he prompts. 

It’s another while until a smile creeps onto Kris’ lips, “Yeah, okay,” he agrees, his fingers folding against Yixing’s hand before his expression falls and his eyes look away, unfocused.

Yixing’s eyebrow’s stitch together, “What’s wrong?” he asks to no response. He looks down at his hand where Kris’ fingers still rest between his own, but there were limp, like the rest of the arm connected to the hand. Yixing lets go to grab the Companion on the shoulder, giving him a shake, “Hey, you okay?”

Kris finally looks at Yixing again, but his eyes are glazed over when a voice that sounds like Kris’ - but also doesn’t - starts to speak, “We apologize for this Companion’s error.” 

“What the hell?” Yixing breathes out uneasily as Kris continues. 

“We are in the process of adjusting his parameters to properly meet your demands.”

Yixing pushes back from the unrecognizable Companion until he almost falls off the bed, “What the fuck is going on here?”

Kris’ unseeing eyes follow Yixing as the latter catches himself and stands upright next to the bed. “This Companion’s Monitor has determined that Kris is no longer compliant to Mr. Zhang’s parameters. We are in the process of adjusting his parameters,” he repeats. 

Yixing starts to shake, an eyebrow arching as he struggles to find his voice, “Are… are you trying to tell me that Kris is a robot?!”

Kris pulls up into a seated position, putting on a smile that scares Yixing into falling back a few steps. “Companions are as human as you are. However, the Agency mandates that a chip be installed into each Companion’s head. It is installed to stop the Companion if, for example, it tries to kill its master. It also allows their Monitor to take over if the Companion strays from its directives.”

Yixing’s jaw clenches as he takes in the information, “And you’re saying you hijacked him. And that you can do that whenever you want.”

“Of course not. The Monitor watches quietly and only acts under certain circumstances. In this case, this Companion was directed to keep Mr. Zhang’s youngest son in line and make sure he attends his classes. In agreeing with your suggestion to skip your classes today, it has violated its contract.”

“His name is Kris, not ‘it’,” Yixing corrects bitingly, anger starting to bubble in the pit of his stomach. “What are you going to do with him?”

“We will erase its memory of the moment of error and events leading up to it. In essence, it will be reset to a time when it followed its directive without hesitation.”

“You will do no such thing,” Yixing growls, his voice rising.

“I’m sorry, but you do not have authorization to cancel this action. This Companion’s contract is signed by Mr. Zhang, your father.”

“You touch a single memory in Kris’ head and I promise you, you will regret it.” He takes a deep breath, considering his options, “I still have a few hours until I need to be in class, so until that bell rings, you will not do a single thing. I will talk to my father in the meantime.”

Kris - or whoever is controlling him now - stays quiet and unmoving for at least a minute before he nods slowly. “You have two hours and seventeen minutes,” is all he says before he closes his eyes. 

Yixing lets out a sigh a relief when another minute later, Kris opens his eyes again, his head cocking to the side as his eyes flicker between the empty space beside him on the bed and where Yixing stands with confusion. Yixing takes a couple steps forward again, kneeling onto the bed and taking Kris’ hand once more. “You’re back?”

Kris narrows his eyes at Yixing before bringing his free hand up and pressing it against Yixing’s forehead, as if checking for a fever, “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Yixing can’t help his chuckle, “Of course not.” Kris keeps eyeing Yixing suspiciously until the latter clears his throat. “Look, I have to see my dad real quick. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Kris continues to stare at Yixing, silent. “I promise,” Yixing assures, squeezing the Companion’s hand.

Kris looks down at their hands, hesitating a moment before he squeezes back and looks back up with trust evident in his no longer skeptical expression, “Okay.”

Yixing’s stomach churns when a voice in his head doubts his ability to convince his father and he swallows, pushing it out of mind; he has to find a way, or Kris as he knows him now will be gone. He smiles for Kris, leaning in for long kiss, determined that it won’t be their last.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your endurance is remarkable...


	17. Caelum (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about to get really confusing because I started writing in sections and everything (at one point) made sense in my head, I just never got around to putting it on paper so what I DO have is... chaotic... sorry.   
> I jump from writing actual scenes to just plotting them in a single big ass paragraph just to get the ideas out, and then semi-paragraph shit because that's just how writing happens sometimes lol  
> This fic was originally planned to be a three-parter with 100k+ total wc but uh... yeah..... :| I also hadn't decided on official names for shit so uhm, please excuse the filler terms I used instead... if you can keep track of them :|

_Interlude I_

 

Byun Baekhyun is conflicted.

He chews his nails in contemplation as he paces along the cliff, unsure of his next steps. He knows this is the right move, but his mother disagrees, arguing that what Baekhyun is proposing will only hurt things: "We have peace, Baekhyun. Why are you trying to destroy that?"

But they don't have peace. They have a growing list of missing persons that their leader has chosen to ignore. A list that the public should be made aware of. "They have a right to know," he argued back but his mother only frowned at his stubbornness.

"Will any one believe you? Even if you have proof, people only see what they want to see. And they aren't going to want to see what you are offering to show them."

Baekhyun hated to admit it at the time, but he knows his mother is right. It's been hundreds of years since their city was established, and the

"We oughta just burn the whole thing down," he grumbles under his breath as he finally stops pacing to stare off to the west where the sunset would be painting the skin pink and purple of this was a century ago. It would be easy, he thinks to himself, given the knowledge he has obtained. A few cuts in the right places and they whole system would crumble to its knees before him. He sighs though, knowing that doing this would only bring chaos and sorrow to all parties, including the innocents, and Beakhyun is not yet willing to go so far as to disregard human life. He sighs in defeat, wondering what his next move should be. 

He lowers himself to the ground, crossing his legs under him against and shivering as the exposed skin on his leg touched the cold rock. He watches an ant scurry around where his foot sits, letting his mind go empty for the first time in almost a week since his discovery. He has told barely a handful of his most trusted brothers and sisters at the _______ what he has found and none of them have any more idea than Baekhyun does about what to do with the information. For lack of a better term, Baekhyun is lost. 

"Kinda like you, huh, buddy?" he says out loud with amusement as he moves his foot so that it blocks the ant's path repeatedly, managing to pull a smile onto his lips when the ant ends up running in circles, confused at all the obstacles before it. 

When he suddenly hears the sound of disturbed pepples behind him, the smile is wiped off of Baekhyun's face and he instinctively reaches for the gun in his holster as he jumps to his feet, "Who's there?" he shouts, releasing the safety on his weapon, but he doesn't manage to finish his inquiry when he sees a girl in tattered clothes before him, her face covered in dirt and her knees shaking, threatening to give out from under her weight. 

"Please," she whispers in a raspy voice, stumbling forwards a step, "Help me."

Baekhyun almost puts away his gun before he recognizes her clothes, dirty and torn as they are; she belongs with them. His grip tightens and his jaw locks painfully. 

She falls to her knees, but whether it is due to fatigue or caution towards Baekhyun's gun trained on her head, he cannot tell. "My name is Song Qian," she gets out, her eyes already fluttering closed, "I just want to go home," she manages before she collapses on her side.

It's only then that Baekhyun realises that she's pregnant, her third trimester belly glistening with exertion from her journey. He stares blankly at the scene before him for a moment until he recognizes the name she spoke.

She's on the list.

She's one of their own. 

Baekhyun stands frozen to the spot from nearly a whole minute in disbelief before he moves, holstering his weapon and rushing to the side of the young girl. He props her up against his side and taps her lightly on the cheek, coaxing her back into consciousness. Her body is reluctant to move but he finally manages to feed her some water from his flask before she passes out once more. He reaches for his radio to call someone to their aid, but he remembers that he left it back in his room on purpose; he wanted to be left alone when slipped past his mother and out the front door. He curses but doesn't dwell, positioning himself to scoop the girl up in his arms. 

Despite carrying nearly an entire other human inside her, Song Qian is light. Her thighs are thinner than her neck and her arms like those of a skeleton. He's surprised she can support her own weight and marvels vaguely at the drive of an expectant mother. He shakes his head of these thoughts though, he has no time for them. He steadies himself and starts for home.

It's there as he takes care not to slip on the wet rocks as he prays for the lives in his arms that he realises what he must do.

He is going to fight. He is going to do everything in his power to find every Song Qian out there, and to make sure there are no others that make it onto that list.

 

_Chapter 2.1_

Kris sits on the bed, a small smile on his face as he listens to his master's footsteps fade in the background as he leaves the apartment. He draws his knees into his chest and tucks his chin between them, wondering if it was normal for a Companion to feel such warmth towards a master. He stares at the spot next to him where Yixing was only moment ago, wondering what emergency prompted the boy's sudden disappearance. He frowns at the thought, reminding himself that he had no right to question

  
At the mall, Kris can feel the glances and hear the whispers of the strangers around them at the mall and he quickly lets go and falls back a respectable distance behind Yixing, as companions are expected to do. Breakfast hadn’t been an issue; they’d sat across from each other as is typical of other Caelum citizens with companions. But even as they left hand in hand from the restaurant, Kris had felt the eyes on his back. They aren’t supposed to at the same level as regular citizens of Caelum and he flushes at his own stupidity at assuming he could walk at his master’s side. Yixing stops a couple feet ahead of Kris almost immediately and Kris keeps his gaze down, refusing to meet Yixing’s eye. Yixing doesn’t say anything and sighs loudly before grabbing Kris around the wrist tightly and dragging him into the closest shop. Someone greets his master by name (Welcome back, mr. zhang. Dressing room 5 is available for your perusal) but Yixing doesn’t even slow down as he pulls Kris into one of the many rooms in the store, empty save for a small (podium) at one end, a small glowing orb hovering above it. “Take your uniform off,” Yixing commands as he moves towards the (podium). “Master?” “Clothes. Off.” Yixing enunciates without looking up from the small screen that is projected from the podium when Yixing places his hand on the orb. 

Kris does as he’s told even if he’s confused, embarrassed again about the marks all over himself and wondering if this was it, this would be his punishment, but Yixing doesn’t comment on his appearance, still engrossed in the contraption under his fingers. “Stand there,” Yixing points at the center of the room, still not looking up from the screen as words scroll across it. “Put your arms up.” There’s a whirring and then he looks down to find several red dots tracing along his skin. “Look at me and don’t move,” Yixing warns, crossing his arms as he watches on, and Kris swears the amusement on his face is from Kris’ own confusion. As the last of the red dots fade from his skin, Yixing beckons Kris towards him as he signals for the screen to enlarge and Kris finds an image of himself in the foreground. “What are you waiting for?” Yixing asks and Kris returns more confusion. “I’m… not sure what Master is asking me to do…” “I’m getting bored of your ugly grey garb. It hurts my eyes.” “A companion’s grey uniform is his identifying element. Without it, the public would not be able to recognize my role.” Yixing scowls, “Yes, okay, I know, but it’s ugly and I refuse to be out in public with such hideousness. And as my Companion, you’re supposed to do what I say, right?” Yifan hesitates, wondering if this spoiled boy was doing this because of Kris’ reluctance to walk beside him and he smiles at Yixing, making the other blush and look away. “Of course,” Kris says, “I will wear whatever pleases my Master.” Yixing scowls visibly as he steps aside and points at the screen again, “No, pick something you like.” Kris stands in front of the projection, unsure of what to do. “Uhm… I’m… not sure how,” Kris admits dejectedly and Yixing raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “You mean you’ve never used one of these?” Kris shakes his head; he’s never had to choose his own outfit, always having been assigned linens by the agency. There was never a reason to learn how to operate a Dressing Room. Yixing continues to look alarmed for another moment before he joins Kris behind the podium again, pointing at one of the floating rectangles that surrounded Kris’ doppelganger, obviously some kind of command that brought up more rectangles. Yixing was explaining the system to Kris beside him but Kris could barely hear him, enthralled by the way Yixing’s selections would show up on his doppelganger one after the other. Yixing hands the reins to Kris who’s still a little overwhelmed, asking if Yixing can just pick something. Yixing frowns and pulls Kris to stand squarely in front of the screen. “I want you to pick something you like.” Kris resists the urge to say that he’d like anything Yixing might pick for him. “I know there’s a lot, just take your time.” He pauses, “I just need to grab something from the store next door. Just browse through the catalogue and see what you like okay? I’ll be back quick. If you have any questions, you can ask ____ he knows what I like.” Yixing reassures, getting up onto his toes and pressing his lips lightly on Kris’ before he leaves Kris to be alone in the room. When Kris finally picks something out (down the underwear and socks), he selects “Accept” on the screen and there’s another whirring before a section on the far wall pushes out. He wanders towards it and finds the items he selected hanging from a bar perpendicular to the wall segment. He jumps when another section pops out behind him and a pair of shoes sits in the compartment. He puts the clothes on uneasily and is slipping into his shoes when Yixing returns, a bag at his side and eyes wide. “Hot dang.” Kris looks at Yixing funny, “I’m sorry, Master Yixing?” Yixing shakes his head, “No, nothing, you just… you look good is all,” he says, stepping forward to straighten out Kris’ shirt. “You have good taste for a companion,” Yixing remarks, a reminder for Kris of his status. “Oh.” He looks down, furrowing his brows at the bags at Yixing’s side, “Beg pardon master, but how did you pay for those if I was not there to give my print?” Yixing tucks the bag quickly behind him and draws Kris’ attention back up with a finger under the companion’s chin. “_____ and I don’t exactly deal in Units…” he explains vaguely before changing the subject altogether when Yifan asks “What is it that you deal in, then?” “So is that your final choice? Shall we go pay for your new clothes, then?” Yixing suggests tossing the grey uniform altogether but Kris refuses; it’s property of his agency and it would be irresponsible. Kris is nervous at first as he steps out of the store and Yixing offers his hand again. He’s stiff as he takes the hand and walks next to Yixing. Yixing squeezes his hand reassuringly and smiles up at him encouragingly. “Ready?” Kris doesn’t feel ready but he tries his best anyway, because it’s what his master wants. The first steps are uncomfortable still but as Yixing takes them around, pointing at different styles and asking if Kris might like them, Kris can feel himself relaxing, smiling even.

“I got you something…” Yixing says once the payment has gone through. He draws up a bag from his side and pulls from it a box. “I caught you reading mine the other night and thought you might want your own.” Kris opens the box to find a brand new tablet. “I had _____ load it up with some stuff, you like astronomy, right?” Kris feels alarmed that Yixing knows this and he declines the gift, given how unusual it is for a master to buy something for a companion that doesn't have any relation to their master-slave positions (like it doesn't help any of their day to day tasks…) Yixing insists that Kris take it, then also asking if Kris would like to sit in on his classes? He can have a chat with the headmaster if that's the case… Kris doesn't offer up a reply, still speechless at the whole thing. “You don't have to give me a reply now, but think about it? I don't like that you have to wait for me during the day.”(?) “It's my duty,” Kris replies mechanically only to have Yixing sigh. “let's just walk around, okay? You hungry or anything?” Kris shakes his head, having a hard time putting together why and when Yixing had changed his attitude towards him so dramatically.

When they get back to Yixing’s apartment, Kris is still smiling and he can’t rmbr how long it’s been since he smiled so much. “So, did you like today?” Yixing asks, tucking his bag away (he’s been keeping it hidden from Kris all day). “Yes, thank you, Master Yixing.” “Just call me Yixing from now on, okay?” “Master?” Yixing frowns, “What did I just say?” “O-of course, Mas-, I mean, Yixing,” Kris tries, the oddness of the name on its own making him frown. “Enh, still sounding a little stiff, but we’ll work on that as we go,” he mutters before pulling Kris down for a kiss that Kris immediately returns hungrily. He’s never felt like he needed Yixing before, having always only done what Yixing himself started. He pulls Yixing into him, suddenly feeling dizzy as he reaches into the smaller’s hair. He almost whines when Yixing pulls away, his breath hot against Kris’ skin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… uhm, we don’t have to if you don’t want to… after yesterday...” he trails, taking a step backwards, face flushed but expression full of concern. ‘Want’. What did Kris want? And more importantly, why did that matter to Yixing? Kris was paid for and ordered to do whatever his master commanded. He had no wants. Except right now, he wanted Yixing. He reaches out to grab Yixing as the younger takes a deep breath and moves to walk away. “I… I want you. Pl-please... to erase…” he stutters out, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. He hasn’t felt right ever since he’d been lent to Yixing’s friends and he just wanted to feel Yixing on him, around him, in him. He feels a flush into his face and he swallows as he dares to return Yixing’s gaze, surprised at his own sudden (bravery) and hoping that Yixing might understand. Yixing’s expression softens and he looses Kris’ grip around his arm before taking him by the hand again with a (understanding) smile. He kisses the back of Kris’ hand and then briefly on Kris’ lips before he leads them to the bedroom, sitting Kris on the bed and standing over him. “Okay,” Yixing whispers before letting go of Kris’ hand to brush at a stray hair, thumb brushing along Kris’ bottom lip before he leans down to kiss him, tongue gently flicking against Kris’ lips, seeking permission that Kris grants easily, hands coming up to rest on Yixing’s hip. Kris flinches when he feels Yixing’s fingers undoing the buttons on his collar, reminded of what he’s covering up. Yixing pulls away, his fingers stopping as he rests his forehead against Kris’, “We can stop if you want.” Kris swallows at how gentle Yixing’s tone is, his hand already retreating back to himself. He grabs it and brings it back towards his collar, tilting his head so that he can lock lips with Yixing once more. Yixing’s touch is soft, shakey even as he undoes the first few buttons before he pulls away from Kris to study the marks again, his fingers tracing along the pinkness as his eyes flicker back up to Kris with unspoken apology before he presses his lips to Kris’ neck, and then to his collarbone where Kris knows is home to fingernail scratches from Kim Minseok. Kris presses his eyes shut tightly as Yixing works his way down Kris’ chest, pressing his lips to every mark and then repeating the process with the ones he missed when he peels the shirt off completely. 

Kris wakes up the next morning before Yixing as usual and he carefully untangles himself from Yixing unwillingly. He recalls his promise to himself to be a better companion so he whispers a thank you and then heads to the kitchen to start breakfast. He blushes hotly when Yixing finally wakes and wanders in, his hair a mess as he yawns. “Good morning, Mas-” he clears his throat, “Good morning, Yixing.” “Mornin’,” Yixing greets behind a yawn, “Are you… alright this morning?” He asks as he hops onto the stool and Kris pours his breakfast into a glass for him. He smiles even though he is concerned about Yixing’s constant asking of his wellbeing. “Yes, of course,” he answers, and he’s not lying because he’s no longer just another Common Companion; he is his master’s again. “Ready for school?” “Are you? You can take the day off if you’d like. I can go myself.” “Nonsense, it is my duty to ensure that you are to attend your classes.” He reaches for Yixing’s finished glass and finds his movement suddenly restricted by Yixing’s hand around his own. “Stay home. I promise I’ll make it to every single one of my classes.” “I have no doubt you will, but I’d like to be there for you if you need anything,” he hesitates, “And please, stop worrying about me. It is unbecoming of someone of your position to be concerned about a mere Companion as myself.” The comment only seems to annoy Yixing, who holds ever faster to Kris, “I am concerned. And you’re more than just a Companion to me, Kris.” Kris blushes and Yixing finally lets him pull his arm back to himself and he turns to put the glass in the cleaning unit. “I’m fine, I promise,” he says when he turns around, voice losing the distanced tone of his previous comments. Yixing looks at him dubiously for a moment but seems to accept it, hopping off his stool and rounding the counter to poke at Kris’ grey uniform with a frown, “What happened to all the clothes we bought yesterday?” Kris blushes at the memory of the previous day. “I didn't think you were serious.” A muscle tenses in yixing's jaw and he sighs Kong, dragging Kris back into the bedroom. “where'd you put it all?” Kris let's go of yixing's hand momentarily to make for the closet where is bag is stowed, next to a neatly folded pile of the articles purchased yesterday.

Yixing starts to stay after school to work in the library. Kris keeps him company, glancing up every now and then from his new tablet to find Yixing always busy tapping away at his keyboard. He doesn't understand the code, nor why Yixing seems to be working so hard on it. Every once in a while, yixing let's out a loud curse before he gets up to use the library console to download additional material to his laptop. Kris doesn't sit in class with yixing given how advances the material is compared to what Kris knows (which is basically nothing). But Kris busies himself with the books Yixing suggests and uploads onto his tablet while he waits for yixing to finish his classes. Sometimes, he goes out and makes a grocery run l, returning to the school before the last bell sounds. He has also developed a habit of bringing Yixing a sizable snack to consume before his long hours at the library. Yixing often forgets dinner and kris makes it his responsibility to remind him.

Kris starts to worry as Yixing’s studies start doing better and he gets a little angsty about his future with this master that will soon no longer need him; his purpose would be served and he’d return to the agency and await further instruction.

(Kris worries about his status)

(Yixing asks Kris to pick up the rest of Yichun's items from her office, meets Chanyeol)

***

Kris swallows hard as he watches Yixing throw his tablet against the wall in frustration before burying his face in his hands with a loud sigh. "Is something the matter?" the companion asks uneasily, closing the door to the dish washing machine.

Yixing looks up in alarm, as if he's forgotten that he's not alone in his apartment. The expression is fleeting though, and his shoulders relax. "Everything's fine," he says, his tone just as forced as the smile that graces his lips. "Just some difficulty with some homework," he clarifies. "No need to worry."

Kris tries not to frown at the comment; it's the fifth time Yixing has used those words in the last couple of days since their trip to the mall. The first couple of times, Kris found it comforting, that his master seemed to be concerned for his wellbeing since the night he spent at Lu Han's. But the more Yixing repeats those words, the more Kris can't ignore the sneaking suspicion that there is something Yixing is hiding from him. He resists the urge to ask 'Are you sure?', knowing that it is most definitely not his place to question his master. He reminds himself that as Kris' master, Yixing was not obligated to tell Kris all of his secrets. 

Still, it would be nice if Yixing could open up to him.

Taking a deep breath, he puts on a smile that he hopes certainly looks a lot less forced than the one Yixing is wearing. He makes his way over to the living room where Yixing's tablet lays on the floor, the cracked screen flickering in and out of existence from the impact. He picks the device up and turns to face Yixing, "Shall I put in an order for a new one?" he asks. Yixing doesn't seem to hear him, glaring at the device in Kris' hands until the companion clears his throat. "Master?"

The word seems to get Yixing's attention and scowls up at Kris, "What did I say about calling me that?" he hisses.

Kris manages not to flinch at the tone but his fingers tighten around the tablet and he drops his gaze down to watch his knuckles go white. 

Yixing sighs and gets to his feet, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just tired," he explains, coming up to Kris to take the tablet out of the taller's hand gently and putting it on the table beside the couch. "I'm going to go out and grab a new one. Why don't you go get washed up and turn in for the night? It's getting late and you don't have to wait up for me."

"It's fi-", Kris starts, only to stop himself by biting down on his lip at the exasperated look on Yixing's face, "Yes, of course," he says simply, even though he knows that it will be difficult for him to do so when he's too busy wondering what it is that is getting Yixing so wound up lately. He watches in silence as Yixing grabs his jacket from the closet and pulls his arms through the sleeves before opening the front door. "I'll see you in the morning," he calls. 

Kris raises a hand to wave good-bye, but Yixing doesn't turn around before the door materialises behind him once more. Kris spends the next few seconds still staring at the closed door, his arm still held up awkwardly beside him before he finally drops it with a long sigh, moving to the couch to sit down.

____

Yifan shivers despite the heat from his shower radiating back at him and he pulls the blankets up to tuck under his chin as he stares at the empty space beside him. This is the first time he's gone to bed before his master and it hits him like a wall of brick how lonely it feels to climb into the empty bed. He curls up on the bed, pulling his knees into his chest as he slips his fingers under his pillow to grip at the sheets below, wondering what's taking Yixing so long to come home. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on sleep, knowing that it won't come until Yixing lies next him. 

He gives up trying to force himself to sleep and lies in bed staring at the ceiling.

 

***

 

(Tao's birthday party, jealousy)

(Family Dinner, Kris awkward because Yixing asked him to actually join the table)

(Flashbacks)

 

(Discovery of Terram)  **(honestly, I don't know why this wasn't a completed scene given how important it is for plot /o\\)**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (so very sorry you had to suffer through that...)


	18. Caelum (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last of it and it's in the form of CHAOS. No seriously. Leave now. Close this tab and never look back. Why are you still reading this???? 
> 
> I didn't even have a proper POV picked out so it jumps from Yixing, to Yifan to Yixing again OTL. It's literally just random shit that came to mind whenever I forced myself to write but it never sounded right because the fact that I had to /force/ myself to write just killed everything. The major plot is still in my head but again, nothing is on paper. (if you actually want to know, you could probably pick my brain in a comment lol I'm too lazy right now to do anything except copy and paste so I can finally be done with it xD)
> 
> Honestly, dunno why I even bother posting this garbage but here goes.

_Interlude II_  

 

A flat rock skims the surface of the water, skipping off repeatedly before it is allowed to sink into the depths of the murky pool.

The boy frowns up at this older brother, legs crossed under him as he watches the elder, “Hey, no cheating!” he whines before coughing into his hand, pulling it away red. He tucks it quickly behind his back when he realises it’s blood but he’s still too slow for his brother.

Yifan drops the remaining stones from his hand before stepping up to his brother and kneeling on one knee. He holds his hand out expectantly and waits wordlessly. 

“I’m fine,” Kris states resolutely, keeping his fist tightly closed behind him.

Yifan sighs and takes his hand back to himself, folding his legs under him, now a mirror image of his brother. “We’ll come back to play when you’re better, okay?”

“I’m fine!” Kris pouts, fighting against his brother who reaches for his hidden arm, giving it a gentle tug before Kris finally acquiesces. “I don’t want to go back, yet,” he murmurs, letting Yifan use a soft cloth to clean the red splotches from his hand.

Yifan sighs as he finishes wiping his twin clean, “Half an hour, okay?” he says, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “Then we have to go back.” The smile he gets for his lenience is all he needs to know he has made the right choice. He tucks the bloodied napkin into his pocker and helps his brother to his feet. "Promise you'll be more careful, though," he berates before loosening his hold around Kri's hand. 

"I promise!" Kris shrieks happily as he skips away. 

Yifan sighs, crossing his arms on his chest. Despite being the same age as Kris, he lacks the enthusiasm the other has. Yifan has never understood how Kris can be so cheerful all the time, despite having so many years of his childhood trapped inside a hospital room, getting poked and prodded by doctors who don't know how to help him. 

Yifan is the opposite, stern despite his barely teenage years. He's been responsible for taking care of his younger brother since they could walk and after a few irresponsible decisions left his brother on life support for several days, Yifan has come to learn the importance of his role in Kris' life. But despite his carefulness, Yifan is only human and humans make mistakes. 

A familiar panic washes over Yifan as he watches his brother wave back at him, animated at first, with a wide grin until the corners of Kris' lips fall and his eyes droop closed. Yifan is only fast enough to catch his brother before Kris' head hits the ground. "Kris?" he shouts, "Kris!"

The boy in his arms lets out a soft moan, "Yifan? I don't feel so good," he whispers, eyes fluttering as he struggles to stay awake. 

"It's okay," Yifan assures, maneauvering so that his brother's arm is around his neck. He slips his own around Kris' waist and supports the brunt of the younger's weight as he pulls both of them up to their feet. 

"Brother, you're bleeding," Kris murmurs.

Yifan looks down to his knees where a steady stream of red rolls down his shin from when he slid against the rough gravel to catch his brother a moment ago. Now that he's made aware of his injuries, they sting a little when he walks, but he puts on a brave face, "Looks worse than it is," he says with a grin when Kris looks up at him with worried eyes, "I can't even feel it."

Kris frowns, but he doesn't put up a fight, clearly too focused on merely getting his feet to step one in front of the other with his brother's help. 

Yifan keeps his expression positive for his brother as worry makes him sick to his stomach. He doesn't have time to feel guilty for being so easily swayed, there will be time for that later. His only focus right now is to get back home. "Mom'll know what to do," he says, though he's not sure if he's trying to reassure his brother or himself. 

She does.

But it won't matter because a week later, Kris will get into a fight with Yifan. The younger will storm out of their home, the older will refuse to go after him.

And Kris' name will be added to The List.

 

_Chapter 3.1-3.3_

(Yixing files Kris disappearance, and the Agency apologizes, sending someone new as a replacement. Yixing dives into studies, convinced that the Caelum system works, there’s no reason for the UG rebellion, they are wrong. He still used the drugs though, when he finds his mind drifting to Kris. He takes ___(sehun?)___ regularly, but finds it difficult to not see Kris’ face when he does so (which is also why he’s gone back to the drugs) (will sometimes see Kris in corner when he’s fucking ____). No longer boards cus it also reminds him of Kris.  
Lu Han is virologist for new strain of sickness that is affecting a large portion of the population. His curiosity about ground makes Yixing panic and he reveals there are people living down there. Get into fight about how he could keep this secret and wondering how ppl survived down there. Yixing doesn’t care, they have it great up here, they should stick to what they know. ‘You sound like Kris.’ ‘And you finally sound like a Zhang.’ Yixing hates that he’s become what he used to hate and is about to crash the caelum database when news of father is kidnapped alongside several other important people to leaders of Caelum. He doesn’t crash database but ends up saving the program to a drive and brings it with him to find UG.)

 

"You ready to go, Yixing?" Lu Han's voice calls out somewhere behind him and Yixing hums a vague response without turning around. He's too focused on the mess of code in front of him, a physical representation of how he couldn't trust anyone else to do anything. The algorithms were incoherent tangles of letters, calling functions that made no sense. He started debugging early that morning, pausing only briefly to grab a quick lunch that he ate in front of his screen.

"You're going to get cross-eyed staring at all those lines without taking a break," Lu Han chimes as he pulls up a chair next to Yixing who shrugs. "Don't you have anything else to do besides homework?" he asks, spinning around in the swivel chair distractingly.

"Stop that," Yixing hisses, glaring at his screen and deleting a line with his eyebrows stitched together; the next time his professor assigned group work, Yixing is going to request to work on his own. From the corner of his eye, Yixing sees Lu Han pout and rolls his eyes. "What is it?" he alll but growls.

"You know, you used to be a lot more fun when you had no interest in doing well in school."

Yixing finishes rewriting the line and saves his work before he turns to face Lu Han with a scowl. "Aren't you supposed to be at the hospital or something?"

Lu Han shrugs, "I'm working the night shift today with Dr. ________."

Yixing wrinkles his nose, "Isn't that the one you said hates interns?" he asks, tidying the space around his desk before grabbing his bag and getting to his feet, Lu Han following closely behind him.

"Yes, but I'm going to change his mind."

Yixing gives Lu Han a raised eyebrow and a chuckle, "Ah, that's why you chose the night shift," Yixing says suggestively before adding, "And how does Minseok feel about that?" Yixing knows full well that Lu Han doesn't mean to sleep with his mentor but he enjoys the disgusted reaction he gets out of his best friend anyway.

"Ha, ha," Lu Han says flatly after shoving Yixing in the shoulder as they left the programming lab and into the main building. "No, I'm on the night shift because it tends to be less busy then, which gives me more time for my research."

"Nerd," Yixing says flatly, earning him another punch, "Well, it's true, isn't it? I mean, who else but a nerd actually enjoys looking into some random strain of who-knows-what deadly virus?"

"Again, ha, ha," Lu Han frowns. "It's important, okay? People are actually dying."

"Yeah, what did you call it again? _____?" Yixing mutters, only half interested in what the answer is. "It's not like people are dead from it, it's probably no big deal."

"It's _______," Lu Han corrects, "And it is a big deal. And I really shouldn't be telling you this, but just because they haven't died yet doesn't mean that it's not going to happen soon. None of the doctors have seen this before, which means this is a new infection. In the ______ years since Caelum was established, there hasn't been anything new in terms of diseases and we don't know what that means. Is the earth finally ready to give rise to new life?" Lu Han continues to describe his work, but Yixing has already lost interest, checking his watch and sighing when he realises what day it is. He stops in his tracks wearing a grimace, still staring at his wrist as if doing so might allow him to will the date to change.

Lu Han stops a meter ahead when he realises his best friend is no longer beside him. He shoots Yixing a perplexed look, waiting for an explanation.

"Family dinner," Yixing mumbles, barely loud enough for anyone but himself to hear but Lu Han catches it anyway, his expression changing immediately.

"Oh," his best friend supplies, "I'd go with you but then you'd have to explain that we are not in fact dating, and as much as I love you, Yixing, I'm really not willing to get scrutinized by your scary father. Again, anyway," he adds, looking distraught as he recalls the first time Yixing thought it might be okay to bring a friend to the family dinner. Yichun, of course, had simply laughed at Yixing's ignorance, taking the focus off her younger brother for a moment, but she was no longer here to make the awkward dinners less awkward.

"Thanks anyway," Yixing says with a sigh as he falls back into step next to Lu Han as the duo head to his car. "Sorry I can't give you ride today," he apologizes.

Lu Han shrugs, "Enh, it's okay, I'll figure it out. In return though, you should help me set up a time to meet with your dad."

Yixing pauses again, giving Lu Han a look of disgust when Lu Han stops to face him, "Uhm what?"

"I have this theory that I might be able to synthesize an antidote and maybe even a vaccine if I was allowed to explore the earth a little, but I'm getting push-back from-"

"You want to what?" Yixing interrupts, his eyebrows stitching together with worry.

Lu Han sighs heavily, clearly exasperated with his best friend, "You weren't listening before, were you?" he asks, and when Yixing rolls his eyes as if to say 'of course', he elaborates, "I was talking about how it might be possible that the earth might be healing itself, so I was thinking that it might be possible that I could find something down there that could help me with this antidote. And, maybe, humans can finally return to where we belong."

Yixing's eyebrows furrow together and he has to press his eyes shut in a desperate effort to mute another voice saying the same words to him over half a year ago. He spent so much effort trying to forget Kris and it was actually working now that he buried himself in his classes, finally choosing to build on his knack for redesigning systems by studying to become a computer engineer. His teeth grind together painfully and he reluctantly recalls his last moments with Kris before making his way back to Caelum. "There's nothing down there," Yixing spits out, shouldering past Lu Han and commanding the doors on his car to open. He doesn't bother letting Lu Han get in a reply, climbing into his seat quickly and closing the door beside him before inputting his _____'s address on the command screen.

***

DInner is as uncomfortable as it has been the last handful of times since Kris' disappearance. His _______, surprisingly, hadn't been too prying about the companion's disappearance, especially since Yixing has been a model student since his return to Caelum, not missing even a single minute of his classes and his grades making a marked improvement.

Tonight however, Yixing is fidgety and Yijun, in his typical manner, doesn't leave Yixing alone, bombarding the youngest Zhang brother with questions about his apparent nervousness despite their _____'s repeated requests to leave Yixing alone, that the boy was likely just distracted by school work. Yixing takes the easy excuse over trying to explain why his best friend talking about leaving Caelum's limits has him on edge. He hasn't told Lu Han about his excursion to Terram, only vaguely explaining Kris' disappearance by saying he returned the Companion when Lu Han asked he hasn't seen Kris at the school or at Yixing's apartment. Of course, in reality, Yixing has done no such thing, letting both his family and the ______ believe that Kris was still in operation; it wasn't as if either was going to perform an unannounced verification check. ______ had given Yixing access to his own accounts again before he'd left Terram and Yixing had no doubt that the resistance was doing a good enough job to ensure no one was suspicious of Kris' disappearance.

Yixing almost makes it to the end of the meal without having to exchange more than a few words about his studies and it's when dessert is served that the lights go out. The initial reaction everyone gives is an alarmed 'oh!' followed immediately by moderate concern; power outages were not uncommon in Caelum, but they were always just a result of an upgrade to the city's central reactor core, and always announced ahead of time. Before anyone can get up though, the television screen lights up, on it the image of a leafy tree.

Yixing freezes in his chair as everyone else stands up, curious wonder in their features as they start towards the screen. A slow panic starts to settle in the pit of his stomach; he recognizes the symbol from his time on the surface of the earth.

"Citizens of Caelum," a distorted voice starts to speak, sending a chill down Yixing's back. He wonders briefly who it belongs to, Suho? Chanyeol?

Kris?

He swallows as he gets to his feet slowly, not to join his family as they gathered around the screen though. Instead, he stepped backwards as quietly as he can. He doesn't hear the rest of the message as he finds his way to his hoverboard and takes off with his destination in mind.

 

  _ ~~~~Chapter 3.4_

"You're kidding right?" Yixing says and Yifan nearly punches the man for being disrespectful.

Yifan glances over at his leader who crosses his arms, expression stern, "Of course not."

A silence falls over the group before Yixing suddenly breaks out in raucous laughter. Yifan's eyebrows spring into his forehead and he turns to Suho, the pair exchanging expressions of _______. 

"Oh, wow," Yixing finally manages, wiping a finger across his eye to wipe a tear, "You really should've done your homework on this," he continues, clearing his throat when he realises his company is not amused. "Of all the Zhang children, you want to ransom my kidnapping? I'm am useless to them. Honestly, my mother couldn't care less about what happens to me. In fact, she'll probably think this as a gift. I mean, if you wanted to leverage her into giving you what you want, you should've gone for Yi Jun, he's the son that can do no wrong. Well, your first pic should've been my sister, but, well, she's dead," he trails. 

Yifan frowns as he watches something flicker in the Sky Dweller's eyes before he averts them completely. Swallowing hard against his Adam's apple before he turned away altogether. "Good luck with that. I'll be in my room."

(Yifan goes to visit his brother in the recovery wing, only to run into Yixing. He tries to turn away and come back later but Yixing stops him and tells him to stay. They sit in silence awkwardly until Yifan finally pipes up and asks why Yixing is here. Yixing explains that he wants to look after Kris, which prompts Yifan to ask who Kris is to him. "Like a little brother I have to look after, I guess." "You realise he's actually half a century older than you, right?" "I just want to protect him." "That's my job. Go home, sky scum." He storms off and reflects on how effective he's been at protecting his brother though. His mother never wanted Yifan to follow in his father's footsteps (what he's doing is honorable but it would amount to nothing, and Yifan should spend his life doing something that actually mattered. So the twins became scavengers. But when he lost Kris, Yifan had no other options. By then, Suho had already succeeded Yifan's father and Yifan became a fighter. But he had Kris back already. Why was he still fighting? He was letting Kris be used for something Yifan wasn't even sure they fully believed in.

***

Kris has recovered well from his last fainting spell and Yifan brings him a treat, tries to gauge his brother's feelings about leaving. At first Kris thinks Yifan is just worried over nothing until he realises that Yifan wants to leave the fight. Yifan learns about his friends at the Agency. I don't know who they are, maybe I knew them before they tried to erase my memories but they were my friends before I met Yixing.

Yifan asks about Yixing and Kris blushes, making Yifan annoyed. Yifan tries to dissuade Kris, using the excuse the Yixing can't be trusted before he's like them, but Kris just says that Yifan doesn't know Yixing, that Yifan should try to get to know him. "I love him, brother."

Yifan nearly blurts out that Yixing doesn't feel the same way but he can't bear to.

 

_Chapter ????_

The hospital hallways are quiet, the only sound bouncing off their walls the footsteps of an intern making his midnight rounds. Lu Han enjoys the quiet; with his best friend missing and his relationship with Minseok on unsteady grounds, he needs the distraction of work to help him through his days. 

He stops at room ____ and hesitates, staring through the small window at the single patient lying in his bed, an oxygen mask secured across his face and monitors with steady lines above his head.

Room _____ was a quarantine room, unlocked only by a handful of doctors at the hospital and requiring a decontamination __(space). Inside room ____ was patient zero, the first patient since Caelum was established that cannot be cured. The first patient that with a disease that no one understands. 

Lu Han sighs heavily as he presses his hands gingerly against the thick glass, wondering when his research team would finally succeed. It's been months since patient zero was put into an induced coma and Lu Han's teams still has not found anything conclusive for a cure or even a vaccine. He had been eager to finally start his internship, and only more so when he'd learned about this new disease, his curiosity and drive to find a solution earning him a spot on Doctor ____'s small team of researchers. 

Luhan nearly jumps when the alarm on his watch goes off. He scrambles to acknowledge and dismiss it, glancing around the guard that should be making his rounds soon. He takes a final glance through the window and makes his way to the exit, heading down the stairs towards the shared intern office (ballpen?). He only allows himself to breath when he reaches his desk and collapses into his chair, staring at the ceiling in the dimly lit room. He allows himself a brief moment before he pulls himself upright and reaches for his mug, frowning when he finds it devoid of coffee. He lets out a frustrated sigh but gets to his feet and starts back out to the hallway. He pokes a couple buttons on the vending machine in the shared kitchen and waits for his beverage with his arms crossed. He pulls his (phone) out and the screen comes to life with the last document he'd loaded, a journal article on ______. Lu Han scowls to himself; he's already been through the document more than a handful of times but he has yet to find something he can use. He's come to a ______ with his research and no one seems to have written anything useful. Annoyed, he dismisses the article, only for the screen to display his next most recent search: a months-old news article about an attack on the ____ building, the origin of Patient Zero's current ailment. 

The machine sputters at the last of his coffee is brewed and he reaches for his drink, only to pause when his screen suddenly flickers and turns black for a quick second before it turns on again, only now, the only thing on his screen is a strange logo that looks like a... he scrambled for the word in his head, something he'd learned in history class as a child. 

A tree, he managed. He frowns at the image, eyebrows furrowing together as he hits the side of his tablet with his free hand a couple times as though it might knock the image away. The tree logo remains though and no amount of tapping against the screen or trying to turn the device off removes it. With a sign, Lu Han grabs his coffee and decides to head back to his desk; office hours for IT help were over for the day so he'd have to wait until morning to get his tablet fixed. At least he still had his computer. He tucks the device under his arm and takes a sip from his mug. He smiles; at least he could always count on coffee to lift his spirits. 

He's halfway back the intern office when a distorted voice speaks.

"Attention citizens of Caelum," it says, making Lu Han stop in his tracks. He glances around, a single eyebrow raised in suspicion as he searches for the source. The government has been known to address the city as a whole before, but the distorted voice has to be a first. Something was... off about it.

"Your government has lied to you," the voice continues and it's then that Lu Han realises that the voice is coming from his tablet. 

"What the hell?" the medical intern mutters on his breath when he returns to the bullpen to find all the monitors lit up with the same logo that had invaded his tablet. He stops in his tracks and frowns, bringing his tablet up to eye level and glares at the logo still defacing his screen. 

"Caelum isn't the human city left on the earth, and all is not well in your city. Your leaders are liars and they are thieves. They have refused to ______. We have tolerated your ______ for too long and now it's time to pay the piper. We want our people back and unless we are paid our debt, ________________." The image that Lu Han had been staring at only moments ago that accompanied the news articled replaces the green logo. "This is your third and final warning, Caelum."

Lu Han's eyebrows stitch together in confusion. What the hell had just happened? Third and final warning? What did that mean? When had there been a first, or a second? 

The mug slips from Lu Han's hands and falls to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the hallway as he stares at the image on all the screens, the familiar image finally yielding to the document Lu Han had been reading earlier in the kitchen. He looked up at the rest of the monitors in the office, all of them now displaying the familiar hospital logo once more. It takes him a moment but he recalls yet another word from his history classed: terrorism. 

It was by no accident that Patient Zero had fallen ill. It was a deliberate attack. 

And whoever had done it is promising to do it again. 

There's a moment of hesitation as Lu Han contemplates the possibility of a prank, but his manager is suddenly paging him on his communicator, a sense of urgency in her voice as he asks Lu Han to gather their team for a meeting, "I don't care if they show up in their pajamas, get everyone to the hospital now."

Lu Han can't manage to get out a response as he struggles to comprehend the contents of the strange announcement. 

"Lu Han!" his manager all but screams at him, her projected image stern, "Do you understand what I'm telling you to do?"

Lu Han blinks blankly for a moment before he nods, "Yeah, get everyone together," he mutters, still confused, "But what's going on?"

She frowns, "Just do what I asked. You need to just trust me right now. I'll explain when everyone is together," she says curtly before ending the conversation. Lu Han stares at the empty space before him where ______'s projection was a moment ago, frozen in place until _______. Another forgotten word from his early history classes comes to mind and a shiver runs up him spine when he recalls it.

Terrorist. 

 

_Chapter ??????? - I couldn't figure out how to write this scene so there's like... multiple iterations of this nonsense :|_

Yifan stumbles around the low table in the middle of his room, the sound of amber liquid sloshing about in the the glass bottle in his hand echoing dully in the room. He crashes gracelessly into his bed face first, pressing his eyes tightly closed against the fabric and pretending he can't feel the way it grows wet against his face. There's a knock on his door that he ignores, groaning into the sheets.

"Yifan, I know you're in there, I just watched you stumble inside," Yixing's voice calls out, muffled against the metal. 

Yifan growls low but makes no move to get up. Instead, he reaches blindly for his pillow and buries his head under it. "Go away," he grumbles, though he's sure it's not quite loud enough for his unwelcome visitor to hear him. 

"You realise I'm just going to stand here pestering you until you open up, right?" Yixing calls again, his tone matter-of-fact.

Yifan continues his efforts to ignore Yixing, but after a long minute of incessant knocking, Yifan hauls himself out of his bed and stomps towards the door, throwing it open with a growl. "Don't you have someone else to annoy?"

Yixing drops his hand to his side with a soft smile, head cocking slightly to the side as if in contemplation. "Actually, now that you mention it, it's been a while since I bothered ________."

Yifan scowls, "What is it going to take to get you to leave me the fuck alone, Zhang?" he spits, throwing his head back to take another swig. The liquid dribbles out from the corners of his lips and he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

"When you start talking about your pain," Yixing says matter-of-fact.

Yifan stares down at the man in disbelief for a long moment before he breaks into a wide grin, "What are you, my therapist now?" he guffaws, spinning on his heels and turning back into his room, uncaring of how the action lets Yixing follow him inside.

"No, but it's not healthy to bottle up everything like this. You need to let it out."

Yifan snorts as he falls backwards onto his bed, watching Yixing close the door and walk towards Yifan calmly. "Says you," he says with a hiccup, "And who made you the expert?"

Yixing sighs quietly as he settles backwards in a chair, rest his arms across the back, "I lost him, too."

Yifan glares, blinking several times in an attempt to clear his blurred vision; how dare this man imply that he could understand what Yifan is feeling right now. How dare he imply that their loss was on the same level. Kris was his brother, his responsibility. Yifan spent his whole life ________, and yet Yixing, who knew Kris for all of a total of a couple months dared to imply that they were equals?

His jaw clenches as he sets the bottle down at his feet and sits up straight. "You're going to want to leave," he says slowly. 

Yixing mirrors Yifan's movement and sits a little taller in his chair, making it clear that he isn't going anywhere.

Yifan frowns, his jaw clenching as he meets Yixing's eye stubbornly for a moment before he closes them altogether and takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate despite the amount of liquor coursing through his veins. __________________. His eyebrows stitched together as he sorted through the neural threads, finding one that stands out in particular. He reaches for it and pulled, grinning to himself when he hears a sharp gasp from his victim. "Don't say I never warned you," he whispers as he pulls on the thread a little harder. 

Yifan never knows what his victims sees when he uses his powers, he only knows the feel of their fears __________, sometimes the thread is covered in thorns, sometimes it is a sharp like a blade, and sometimes it is a fiery hot. Yixing’s fear though, is a cold black emptiness that feels too familiar. Suddenly, he's falling forwards, head over heels into oblivion until he lands on uneasy feet in front of an unfamiliar building.

_____

With a sharp gasp, Yifan lands back in his room, arms reaching back on his bed as he familiarises himself once more with the feeling of reality. He looks up to find Yixing still in his chair, ashen face half hidden in one hand as his entire body shakes. Yifan can hear the other take several short and uneven breaths before finally settling into a rhythm that somewhat resembled human. He watches as several tears roll down the smaller male's face before he opens his eyes slowly to send Yifan a glare that sent chills down the taller's back. 

"This is what you wanted, right?" Yixing asks between ragged breaths as he gets to his feet. "I hope it was worth it," he says in a quiet tone before he turns to leave the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Yifan stares after him, the fictional image of his twin brother's mangled body burned into his memory forever. With a shakey hand, he reaches for his bottle and empties the rest of its contents in a single gulp.

 

***

 

Yixing is _______ when he catches Yifan slipping into the camp at past two in the morning. Yixing himself hasn’t manage a decent night’s sleep since the attack, and he’s been exploring the expansive building to stay occupied. He narrows his eyes as he watches the taller stumble down the hallway, one arm reaching out in front of him as he tries to find his balance as his other grips around a bottle of amber liquid that knocks loudly against the walls. 

“Whoops,” Yifan grumbles, followed by a quiet giggle to himself as he uprights himself for about half a second before deciding that his wiser option is to use the wall as a support.

Yifan is missing most days, disappearing to who-knows-where to drink away his grief, and this is at least the fifth time that Yixing has found Yifan returning at an ungodly hour.

The Caelumite sighs but he gets to his feet wordlessly and makes his way down the hallway, wrapping an arm around Yifan’s waist as he pulling the taller’s arm around his shoulder in support. “Your room’s the other way,” he says, rolling his eyes when Yifan turns to face him with narrowed eyes, taking a long moment to recognize the man trying to steer him to the left.

“Yixing?” he asks blearily before pushing the shorter away from himself, subsequently falling onto the floor with a loud thud. “I don’t need help.”

Yixing sighs again, “Clearly,” he says, sarcasm thick enough on his voice that makes the barely conscious drunk glare at him. He holds his hand out but gets it smacked away half-assedly. 

“Whatever. I don’t want help, at least not from you,” Yifan slurs, managing, with difficulty, to get back on his feet. He wobbles a moment just long enough to glare at Yixing again before he shoulders past Yixing forcefully.

Yixing scowls, turning on his heel to watch Yifan’s back meander away, finally finding his way to his room door. He fumbles with the door a moment before it finally opens.

“Victoria was looking for you all day, she’s worried about you,” Yixing calls.

Yifan visibly hesitates, standing under the door frame for a long moment with a frown on his face before he disappears. “Don’t care,” he grumbles quietly, but his voice still makes it to Yixing in the silent night. 

“Liar!” Yixing calls, louder this time as he moves his legs into a jog to catch up to the taller who slams his door shut. Before the drunk can get the lock working though, Yixing has the door thrown open again, knocking Yifan backwards, arms flailing around him to keep from falling down a second time. 

Yifan blinks a couple times in obvious surprise, but seems to get his bearings about him as he stares sternly back at Yixing. He straightens his posture and takes a solid step towards Yixing. “Get the fuck out of my room, Caelumite,” he says in a low growl, a warning glint flickering in his eyes.

“No,” Yixing turns to close the door behind him and folds his arms across his chest without moving a single step, “Not until you talk to me.”

“Talk?” Yifan asks incredulously, shaking his head as he takes several steps backwards away from Yixing, “You and I have nothing to talk about.”

“We have Kris,” Yixing corrects. 

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Yifan yells, hurling the bottle in his hand.

Yixing leans to the side to avoid the projectile and the bottle shatters loudly against the door behind him, the liquid spray against the arm he holds up to shield his face. The broken shards of glass fall to the floor and Yixing has to finally move to his feet to avoid getting hit. He feels a few cut into his arm, but when he checks the damage, the injuries are barely skin deep, and the cuts he sustained are but small lines of pink. 

“Did that help?” he snarls, stepping away from the puddle that has formed near his foot. “Because if it did, I’d be glad to get you a few more.”

Yifan’s glare hardened and the duo stood in silence for a long minute, only the sound of the building fans humming in the background. “I told you to get out,” he repeats, voice low, “And I’m not going to tell you again.”

“And I told you that I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” Yixing holds his gaze steady, mildly surprised that the taller had not yet backed down due to his inebriation. 

His reply seems to amuse Yifan, and the taller cracks an uncharacteristic smirk as he steps back again to take a seat on his bed. “It’s your funeral, then.”

Yixing quirks an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic expression but he doesn’t have time to contemplate it. As soon as he blinks, he’s no longer in Yifan’s room. “What the...?” he barely manages to get out in a whisper as he turns slowly to gather his bearings. “Where…?” he asks out loud before he realises that he knows this unfamiliar place. 

“Yifan?” he calls out slowly, pinching himself in the arm in an attempt to wake from whatever daydream he seems to fall into. When it yields no result, Yixing curses, swallowing hard as he inches towards the edge of the building he has inexplicably found himself on top of. What the hell is going on?

“Little known fact,” Yifan’s voice suddenly calls out, but when Yixing looks around him he finds himself still alone. “Kris and I share more than just a face.”

Yixing barely hears the words, swallowing hard as he takes in the sight of several buildings around him, the sun starting to set to the west. Wait, sunset? Yixing could’ve sworn that it was two in the morning when he followed Yifan into his room. He looks down to his wrist but he can’t find his watch around it. “Yifan?” he calls out again, hating how his voice shakes in his ears.

He recognizes this place now, and he has spent many years trying to properly forget it. He feels his fingers go numb at his side and he starts to wring them, his breathing picking up as he turns on the spot, trying to convince himself that there is nothing here that can hurt him. 

At least not again. 

“For example,” Yifan’s voice continues as his image appears at the edge of the Zhang Building, hovering several meters above the surface where Yixing stood, arms crossed in front of him as if it is completely normal to do so. “We can both get inside your head.”

Yixing’s teeth grind inside his mouth and he tries to focus on Yifan instead of on his surroundings. “I thought…?”

A nasty smile makes its way onto Yifan’s lips, “I know. I don’t exactly go around showing off. It’s not exactly a nice thing I do.”

Yixing swallows hard. “And what is it that you do?” he asks, though he’s pretty sure he already knows. He turns his body so that his back faces the giant billboard that stands on the building across from the Zhang’s. 

Yifan hums, “I wonder,” he says vaguely, “It’s a little different with everyone. I mean, where is it exactly that your fears have taken us?” he asks conversationally, as if the two were talking about the weather. 

Yixing presses his eyes shut tightly, his breath coming out in short puffs as he tries unsuccessfully to calm his heartrate, now pulsing loudly in his ears. “It’s the roof of my mother’s building,” he manages to get out, reluctant to open his eyes now that he knows why he’s here. 

Yifan hums again, “You grew up with a nice view, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” Yixing spits back. He hears a long sigh come from Yifan’s direction and his teeth grinder together harder.

“You know, the more you resist, the worse it’s going to get.”

Yixing’s eyes fly open and he glares up at Yifan, “I doubt that’s possible.”

Yifan snorts derisively, “You’re afraid of heights, right? I mean the longer you wait, the higher this building’s going to get.”

Yixing manages a weak smile, “You think my fear is falling off this building?” he snorts. The action hurts but he can’t quite but help feel mildly victorious over how ignorant Yifan is despite having got into his head. He takes a deep breath that doesn’t quite console him and takes a long beat before he forces himself to turn around. “You’re in for a ride,” he bites out when he’s finally facing the billboard again, the billboard that haunted his dreams as a child. 

Zhang _________ stands facing his son with a soft smile. His feet wobble on the edge of the helicopter deck as he holds a hand out towards Yixing. His lips move but Yixing can’t hear anything even though he knows his father is calling his name. He realises bitterly that he’s forgotten his father’s voice. 

‘Goodbye,’ Yixing reads off his lips and before he can get his feet to move, his father has fallen backwards. 

“Father!” The scream rips out of his throat and Yixing takes off in a sprint, arm reaching out even though he knows he’s already too late. He reaches the edge of the building but he doesn’t slow, diving off the edge to see his father’s limp body falling ahead of him, his eyes closed. The road that extends out of the Zhang Building garage barrels towards them and Yixing suddenly finds a calm, closing his eyes as he braces for the impact that never comes. 

Instead, when Yixing opens his eyes next, he finds himself in his sister’s office, staring out of her 557th floor window. There is unusually low traffic below him, as in no traffic. He turns to flick at the vase of calla lilies that sits on the shelf beside the window, a vase that now sits in a cardboard box back in his apartment. He realises too late that he still hasn’t returned it to Yawhen as he had intended. 

Yifan appears next to him, watching the scene outside the window in silence. 

“You’re right, this is nothing to show off,” Yixing bites out. 

Yifan shrugs, “I told you to leave me alone.”

“You’ve made your point. Now stop.”

“If I stop, will you promise to leave me alone?”

“I made someone else a promise that I wouldn’t.” Yixing can hear Yifan growl low beside him and he turns to face him. “You should stop anyway. Because I know what’s coming up and you’re not going to like it.”

Yifan chortles, glancing around them at the office, “Actually, no, I think I’ll rather enjoy watching you lose everyone, including that beloved sister of yours. We’re in her office, aren’t we?” He sneers when he sees the dangerous glare that Yixing shoots him

The fists at the __Caelumite’s___ sides clench and Yixing can feel his fingernails dig into his palm painfully. His heart rate hasn’t come down from watching his father fall to his death and he doesn’t suppose his anticipation of watching his sister die will help. He swallows hard, reluctant to turn around, knowing what awaits him, but he knows he has to eventually. He takes a deep breath again and shoots Yifan another glare as he turns around. “Don’t regret this,” he says quietly.

Yifan laughs, “I should be the one saying that.”

Yixing grabs his left elbow and picks at the skin there, preparing himself to see yet another variation of the many nightmares he’s had since the fall of ______ headquarters. It’s odd, he muses to himself as he waits for his sister to appear, despite losing Yichun over half a year ago, it wasn’t until he lost Kris that the nightmares started. 

“Yixing? What are you doing here?” Yichun asks, rounding the door frame into her office with tablet in hand, clearly having been occupied with some file before she found that she wasn’t alone.

Yixing puts on his best smile, “Hey sis,” he says weakly. 

Yichun frowns, setting down her device on the table and crossing her arms, “What’s the matter?” she asks. 

How do I answer that?

He doesn’t. He only stands silently behind her desk, gripping his elbow as if it was a lifeline. 

“Yixing?” she calls again.

“Yeah, Yixing, what’s wrong?” a third voice chimes in and Yixing grimaces when Chanyeol’s figure materialises behind Yichun a moment before he throws an arm around her and pulls her towards him. 

Yixing takes an involuntary step forwards even though he knows he can’t do anything. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Chanyeol warns, his eyes sparkling as his free hand comes up to press a knife against Yichun’s neck. “Another step and I spill your sister’s precious blood.”

“You already have,” Yixing bites out under his breath. His eyes flicker down to meet Yichun’s instead. She’s shaking in her lab jacket, and there’s panic in her face. 

“Yixing?” she calls in a tiny voice that makes Yixing sick to his stomach. He’s heard this so many times before, and there’s nothing he can do in every single iteration. 

“You’re okay,” he lies to her, in a subconscious effort to console her. 

“You shouldn’t lie to your elders,” Chanyeol barks maniacally before the blade cuts and Yixing screams. Yichun’s eyes never leave his, not even as the life leaves them and her limp body starts to fall. Yixing runs again, tears starting to run down his face, but like his father, she is out of his reach.

Yixing stumbles, his fingers passing through fog as Yichun disappears and is replaced with an undamaged ______ headquarters. He stares at the entrance to the dark building, __inside/surrounded__ by the bedrock that protects it.

“Wait, what are we doing here?” Yifan says beside him.

Yixing turns his head to watch the colour drain from Yifan’s face as a light breeze sends the taller man’s hair whisking around him. “I told you to stop,” he says in a quiet voice, turning back around to watch the door open as if by a ghost. 

“Wait, no, no,” Yifan stammered beside him, grabbing Yixing’s arm and holding the shorter back as he started towards the entrance. “Stop.”

Yixing turns to glare Yifan down, slapping the taller’s hand off of his arm, “No, you’re the one who wanted to do this to me,” he hisses, no longer bothering to try stopping the tears from rolling down his cheeks. “I told you to stop,” he continues, taking a resolute step towards the door. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Stop!” Yifan all but screams when his brother appears in the hallway, in plain view from where the two were standing outside. 

Yixing finds himself back on solid ground in Yifan’s room and he reels from the change, falling to all fours as he tries, and fails, to keep himself from dry heaving as spots colour his vision. His chest clenches painfully and he reaches a hand to clutch at the fabric on top of his heart. It does nothing to relieve the ache, and he presses his forehead to the cool flooring as the feeling in his arms numbs. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to erase the images from his mind but whatever Yifan has done is a lot stronger than his routine nightmares. He curses, but finally manages to get himself upright enough to glare up at Yifan who has his head in his hands, rocking slightly on the bed. 

“Get. Out.” Yifan’s heavy voice sounds like it’s on gravel and Yixing doesn’t need to be told twice. He stumbles to his feet and lets himself out, still feeling like he can throw up. 

He slams the door closed behind him before falling back to his knees, head leaning sideways onto the wall as he stares blankly down the dim hallway. He can still feel his hands shaking on either side of him and he brings them up to eye level, swallowing hard. Flashes of his sister’s lifeless eyes flicker in front of him and he shakes his head in attempt to push them out. 

Yixing loses track of time wondering how many more people he’s going to lose in his lifetime, how many times he’ll be helpless to save them. It’s only when he hears someone shuffling in one of the rooms opposite Yifan’s that he brings himself back to reality and gets back to his feet. He clears his throat and glances around him as if he might be watched and makes for his own room. As soon as he’s there, he falls face forward into his bed, burying his head into his pillow to muffle his scream. He lies there a long while before he rolls back onto his back, hands over his face so that he can stare at the empty darkness from between his fingers. 

With sudden realisation, he sits up straight, blinking away the white spots from the abrupt motion as he reaches into his jacket, folded over the back of the desk chair for the familiar plastic box. He pulls it out and stares at the rainbow contents, trying to remember the last time he tasted them. He licks a shakey finger and lets it hover over Blue in contemplation; he’s been clean for months now, he really shouldn’t. 

But he does. And he welcomes the ignorant bliss that comes with it, finally able to close his eyes and rest as the world falls away around him.

***

Yixing wakes up still a little high but he makes his way back to the galley to get something to eat. He gets lost and accidentally walks into a conversation where Suho is talking to scientists, commending them on their work with that virus he sent up a few months ago. Yixing learns that his blood was used to determine that a bioweapon that would work against caelum but be safe for terrans. (they draw blood from yixing to make sure he's not being negatively affected by the conditions on the ground, but most of the blood was for tests)

He makes his way back to Yifan and tries to convince him to help him to get back to caelum to warn people. Yifan refuses and says they deserve it for killing his brother. Yixing asks if Yifan wants to be responsible for killing other people's brothers. If Suho manages to weaponise, there's going to be a war and then innocent people would die everywhere. 

"And what are you going to do?"

"I know someone who can help. He's a scientist."

"Who? A Caelumite?" Yifan snorts derisively, looking away. 

Yixing scowls but doesn't take the bait. "I'm going with or without you. It'd be nice to have some help, but I don't actually need it."

Yifan doesn't immediately agree to go with Yixing but as Yixing is slipping away in the dark, he finds Yifan waiting for him at the edge of Caelum. "I'm just here to make sure you don't go to your precious leaders and expose us."

"Sure, whatever."

Yixing doesn't find Lu Han at his place or at Xiumin's. He has Lu Han's lock code but he doesn't have Minseok's. which is odd for this late hour. He gets his phone out and calls Lu Han to find out he's at the hospital (he's cuts Lu Han off when he asks about how he escaped from his kidnappers "I'll explain when I get there. Please don't tell anyone else I'm here." Lu Han just answers that Yixing should call when he gets to the hospital and he'll come down to get him.)

"I need your help. I'll explain on the way."

"On the way to where?! I'm not going anywhere until SOMEONE explains to me what the hell is going on. And I thought you returned Kris? What's he doing here?"

Yixing flinches, "Kris is...." he starts, unable to finish. 

"He's dead," Yifan says flatly beside him and Yixing presses his eyes closed at the blunt reminder. "Your leaders murdered him," he hisses and Yixing sees the man clench his fingers into a fist, his face getting red. Yixing steps in front of Yifan to get his attention off Lu Han who looks bewildered.

"It's not his fault."

"Of course it is. He's a Caelumite just like you, you're all to blame."

"Maybe so, but I'm trying to fix it. If you kill him, I can't."

"What are you talking about."

"They've made a... weapon. A bioweapon. And I need your help to find a cure. It's supposed to be something that a cure can't be made for, but, Lu Han, I know you can do it. And you need to do it fast, I have no idea when they're planning to use it."

"Who the hell is they?"

"The people who... kidnapped me," he says, rolling his eyes at the inaccurate term for his situation. "His boss," Yixing elaborates, gesturing at Yifan.

Lu Han blanches for a moment, but instead of asking details, he calmly says, "You need to come with me."

Yixing follows Lu Han to a secluded and quiet area of the hospital, a long way from the patient wing where the best friends met. Lu Han shows them Minseok and introduces him as Patient Zero. He's been in confinement since his shift protecting Yixing's mother. "I think it's already been used." Lu Han gets upset as he starts to understand, blaming Yifan for Minseok's current state. Yifan doesn't seem put out and he storms out. Lu Han urges Yixing to stay but Yixing believes he has to go back to make sure Suho doesn't do any more damage with that weapon. Tries to brush it off as a joke that Yifan would come to kill him anyway because he knows where their Terram is. 

"How can you trust them?! They did this to Minseok!"

"I know, I'm sorry, I..." he doesn't know what else to say. 

Lu Han grows thoughtful, "I dunno, I mean the fact that this doesn't originate from Caelum could help me re-allocate some resources, but we still have no idea what caused this. It's got some similarities to acute radiation poisoning but we can't find anything in his blood work. His cells are dying and we have no idea why."

"If I get you their notes, will you be able to figure it out?"

Lu Han contemplates and shrugs, "I don't know. It'd be a start. But I'm not helping those assholes who did this."

"I know. This is for Minseok." He can hear Yifan coming back so he gives Lu Han a quick hug and moves away, "I have to go, okay? I promise I'll be back though."

"Stay safe."

 

_Chapter ?????_

"Hey," Yixing greets, knocking softly on the open door to get the attention of his best friend, hunched over a table, scribbling something furiously into his tablet. "Lu Han?" Yixing tries again, a little louder, when his first greeting is ignored, stepping into the lab cautiously. He frowns deep when Lu Han fails to acknowledge him a second time. Lu Han has always had a habit of getting lost in his work, too focused to notice when someone entered the room until they are standing next to him. Calling Lu Han's name out loudly tended bring the scientist back from whatever train of thought he is currently riding with a jump that typically ended with Lu Han glaring at Yixing for interrupting.

"Hey," Yixing calls again when he's closer, reaching a hand out to place on Lu Han's shoulder.

The scientist lets out a loud yelp, recoiling from Yixing's hand in alarm, nearly dropping his tablet in alarm. An uncharacteristic number of expletives tumble from his lips as he stumbles to right himself, "What do you want?!" he snaps, straightening his tablet in front of him again.

Yixing raises an eyebrow at the reaction, hand still suspended in front of him awkwardly for a moment before he remembers to bring it back to himself. "You okay, Lu Han?" he asks cautiously when Lu Han snaps back around to focus on his tablet once more.

"Yes, of course," Lu Han returns curtly as he locates his stylus and continues scribbling unrecognizable lines on his tablet, "Is that all?" he grumbles without looking up, "I have a lot to do."

Lu Han may be a little condescending towards Yixing when he wants to be, but Lu Han has never been dismissive. Yixing reaches out again, this time grabbing Lu Han around the shoulder and pulling the latter away from this desk to face him. "Hey! What the f-" he stops abruptly in mid-curse when he notes the strings of red that crowd around Lu Han's irises and the deep shadows under the eyes. "When was the last time you slept?" Yixing asks, his anger subsiding and his voice dropping to just above a worried whisper.

Lu Han looks away sharply, puling his shoulder back to himself. "There's work to be done," he states flatly.

"When, Lu Han?" Yixing asks again, his voice stern now as he crosses his arms, determined to get a proper reply. "I'm not leaving until you give me an answer," Yixing assures when Lu Han turns back to his work, "And I'll just stand here annoying you so you can't focus. You know how good I am at that."

"Do whatever you want," Lu Han snaps again.

Yixing raises an eyebrow at the reply and his arms drop to his side, "Alright, then," he resigns, taking a step back as he scans the space around him. He heads for a counter with a rack of test tubes, several stoppered and labeled with something incomprehensible in Lu Han's familiar writing. He grabs the empty right-most tube, and tosses it off the counter. He can't help smirking when the crash has Lu Han immediately looking up and around. Yixing makes a dramatic motion of picking up a second tube, this one filled with a murky pink liquid, and extends his arm to his side until the tube is suspended over the floor, held up with just two fingers. When Lu Han rolls his eyes, Yixing shrugs and lets the second tube fall to the floor with a satisfying crash at his feet that makes what little colour is left in Lu Han's face drain until he looks like a ghost. Yixing picks up a third tube holds it up once more with an bored sigh, as if to say I can do this all day.

"Okay, just put that down!" Lu Han squeaks, getting to his feet and holding his hands up in defeat, eyeing the glassware in Yixing's hand.

"How long ago, Lu Han?" Yixing asks again, stilling holding the test tube out as hostage.

Lu Han swallows visibly, "I haven't slept since the day before we got here," he whispers, barely audible.

Yixing stares blankly at his best friend for a moment, eyes widening, "That was four days ago!" he exclaims, almost forgetting that glassware in his hand before he saw Lu Han jump a little in place with a small yelp. He replaces the tube carefully and steps around the mess at his feet towards Lu Han who is now purposely averting his eyes as he he fidgets in place.

"I need to find a cure," he whispers. "I can't sleep until I figure it out."

Yixing sighs, “You’re a brilliant scientist, Lu Han, I’m sure you’ll get it eventually,” he assures. He doesn’t usually admit it out loud but he envies his best friend’s mind and Lu Han seems to need the reassurance right now.

“What if I don’t?!” the virologist practically shouts, turning back to his desk and picking up the tablet, gesturing at it wildly. “I’ve been at this for months and… and nothing!” He tosses the tablet across the tablet and it teeters dangerously at the edge when it finally stops sliding. “What’s the point, anyway?” he kicks his stool, recoiling when it topples over and catches him in the shin. He hops a couple times on the spot, cursing with his hand rubbing the injured spot before reaching across his desk to pick up a piece of equipment that Yixing can’t identify. With a strangled scream, Lu Han launches it across the lab where it collides with a cabinet and shatters its glass doors before falling to the floor with a dull thunk. 

Too alarmed at the sudden outburst, Yixing can only watch as Lu Han stumbles a little from the effort and then falls to his knees, staring blindly at the fallen shards of glass. “He’s going to die and I’ll have done nothing to stop it,” he whispers flatly.

Yixing's eyebrows stitch together and he takes a couple steps forward before settling down next to Lu Han, "Who is?" he asks quietly, though he thinks he already knows; Lu Han had been insistent that _______________.

Lu Han takes a moment before he finally turns to face Yixing, the pain in his expression sending a sharp pang through Yixing’s chest. “Minseok’s sick, Xingxing,” Lu Han finally manages, his voice breaking as tears start to stream freely down his face and his shoulders begin to shake. “I thought coming down here might help me find him a cure but…” he trails, unable to finish the thought.

Yixing swallows hard; he’s never been really good at comforting. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly before extending a hand to rub slow circles on Lu Han’s back, hoping that it’s enough. “Don’t talk like that, Lu Han. You’ll figure something out.”

Lu Han wipes a hand across his face and sniffles, “What if I don’t, Xing? What if I’m just wasting my time down here and Minseok ends up dying alone up there because I came down here? What if he’s already dead?”

“Shut up, Lu Han. Don’t talk like that,” Yixing berates, using both hands to force Lu Han to turn around to face him. “Minseok isn’t dead,” he asserts even though he knows it could very well be a lie.

“How do you know?” Lu Han pleads, his features _____________

“I just do, okay?” Yixing says without hesitation, holding his gaze steady. “He’s waiting for you to come back for him. And he needs you to figure out this virus, okay? He needs you working on this when your brain is at its best though, not this zombified version. You need to sleep.”

The instruction sends Lu Han into a second bout of fresh tears and he squirms out of Yixing’s hold, “I can’t,” he squeaks, “Everytime… everytime my eyes I close, I see him. And he looks so broken, Xingxing, so helpless and frail in that useless hospital bed and I just…” he trails, squeezing his eyes closed tightly before he drops his head against Yixing’s shoulder, “I miss him so much.”

Yixing sighs, “I know,” he says as he leans into Lu Han and move his hand up to stroke through Lu Han’s hair slowly. “He’d hate to see you like this, though.”

Lu Han lets out a shallow hiccup but doesn’t say anything in return, his body still shaking against Yixing’s, and the wet spot on the latter’s shirt spreading quickly. 

Yixing waits what feels like an hour before notices that the shaking has stopped next to him before his hand finally stops the repetitive motion of stroking Lu Han’s hair. “Lu?” he asks, barely above a whisper as he pulls his head away to look down at his best friend, relief flooding through him when he realises that Lu Han has finally fallen asleep, his arms hanging limply at his side. 

The tired virologist makes a small of whine of protest as Yixing drapes one of Lu Han’s arms around his neck. “Come on, let’s get you to a bed,” Yixing murmurs as he pulls the other to his feet before repositioning himself to pick the other up into his arms to carry bridle style.

Lu Han has always been taller of the two of them, but at the moment, he seems immeasurable small, curled into Yixing’s chest with messy streaks drying against his cheeks. Yixing is suddenly glad for the nights he’d spent at Tao’s gym, though when he finally deposits Lu Han into his bed, Yixing has to stretch his arms. As Yixing stands over Lu Han, massaging his sore neck, he lets out a long sigh, “What are we going to do with you?” he mutters rhetorically, reaching for the folded blankets at the foot of the bed when Lu Han shivers. 

Yixing collapses into the nearest chair and drops his head into his hands, trying to keep his groan silent and he drags his fingers down his face, his vision blurring for a moment before the skin under his eyes snaps back into place. He contemplates a moment before getting to his feet again to hunt down a sedative to inject Lu Han with to ensure that he stays asleep longer than five minutes, lest images of Minseok haunt his best friend’s dreams again.

He’s only just located the infirmary when he runs into Kris who tries to side step past him awkwardly when they meet gazes. Yixing steps aside to let Kris by him and continues towards the infirmary door, before pausing a moment later, spinning around abruptly. “Hey!” he calls across the hall, almost grinning when Kris’ reaction is instant, missing his footing and stumbling a couple steps before he turns around to face Yixing. 

“Yeah?” 

Yixing hesitates a moment, eyes flickering between the infirmary inside and Kris, who eyes him warily; he really should find something to help his best friend sleep better but Yixing hasn’t had a decent conversation with Kris since _____________.

“Can we talk?” Yixing asks finally, convincing himself that Lu Han can wait the five minutes it might take to get Kris to agree to meeting up somewhere later. “I mean really talk?”

Kris shifts visibly on the spot, his expression a combination of discomfort and ______. “About what?” 

Yixing swallows uncomfortably as the reluctance evident in the other’s voice, “Just… I dunno, us?” he manages, feeling red creep into his ears.

Kris’ gaze hardens in the slightest but Yixing catches it and it causes his breath to catch uncomfortably in his throat, “There’s not much left to say, is there?” he asks in such a flat tone that Yixing flinches.

“You don’t have to say anything, just listen?” Yixing implores hopefully, annoyed that he sounds desperate; perhaps he is though. 

Kris doesn’t provide any response for what feels like an eternity and when he finally sighs and nods slowly, Yixing can feel himself breathe again. “I’m not doing anything now?” Kris suggests, taking a couple steps forward, “Well, I mean, I was going to grab a bite… if you wanted to join me?” he adds slowly, carefully. 

Yixing can’t help the smile that starts to form across his face, “Yeah, sure,” he agrees, before he recalls his initial purpose at the infirmary. “Uhm , can you give me ten minutes? I just, Lu Han’s not sleeping very well and I want to find something for that.”

“Oh,” Kris replies, barely hesitating before he picks up his pace and passes Yixing into the infirmary, disappearing quickly behind the rows of shelves before emerging a moment later, holding something in a small box in his hand, “Will this help?” he asks, offering the package forward.

“Uhm, yeah, I suppose,” Yixing replies, reading the words on the front.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. If you are somehow reading this, I applaud your tenacity. Thanks for sticking around. This fandom has been great to me but all things come to an end and this is where I end. The last couple years have been really tough and my writing has suffered from it. I hope to pick it back up again soon but it just won't be in this fandom anymore. Thanks to everyone who has ever left me kudos or commented. It has been a great ride!


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